


Wildcard

by serenale123



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), BAMF Yuuri, Bratva, Dark Victor Nikiforov, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friendship, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Italian Mafia, M/M, Mafia AU, Mafia!Viktor, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romance, Russian Mafia, Slow Burn, Updates on Mondays, Violence, Yuri still skates, but not really, by accident tho, mafia, policeman!yuuri, viktuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-19 03:06:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 38
Words: 144,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10630866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenale123/pseuds/serenale123
Summary: "A good detective can see through criminal and his thoughts, a great detective thinks like a criminal."Detective Yuuri Katsuki arrests his obsession, long time target Mafia mastermind Viktor Nikiforov, finding him sitting on his own bomb in Detroit Metropolitan Airport. Viktor refuses to explain how he has played right into the hands of the police, leaving Yuuri to assume the worst: Viktor is exactly where he wants to be.The two have more in common than the fledgling detective could ever have imagined, their unlikely partnership and eventually friendship raising more questions about the other man than answering.Yuuri must piece together the truth before it's too late and the actions of the past catch up to him.Adversaries, Partners, Friends and then, perhaps maybe something more.TLDR:Mafia AU where Yuuri is a policeman who takes on the help of a mafioso (who's so hot he should be arrested for that alone) and despite their instant success in taking down major gang operations in the city, is more afraid of the man's true motives.





	1. Sitting Duck

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, Guys! This is my first fic. I don't know much about the workings of police forces so forgive me if I make any mistakes I really don't mean it. Also, this is unbeta-ed so please forgive me for any spelling or grammatical errors. Hope you enjoy this and please leave kudos and a comment if you want!

 

> "You're like a gamble, I pay the price

> Thought I could handle, Something undefined

> Give me a reason To raise the stakes
> 
> Cause I can't walk away"
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Wildcard
> 
> -Mickey Valen
> 
>  

* * *

"Good evening, detective Katsuki. Been a while." The man greeted, brushing a platinum blonde lock out of his eyes, as he adjusted his crossed legs to lean on a nondescript black box on the ground in front of him.

"Care to uh...step away from the bomb?" The raven haired policeman asked, keeping his handgun trained on the man, finger trembling against the trigger.

"U..uh, oh, yeah." The Russian muttered, taking a step away from the bomb, hands held in the air.

"Didn't think you were into blowing things up, Nikiforov." Yuuri grimaced, clenching his fingers around his gun.

"Ah...neither." Viktor murmured, his eyebrows furrowing for a moment before relaxing back into his usual (annoyingly) charming smile.

Yuuri raised a brow at the last comment.

"Arrest him, boys." Yuuri barked, gesturing with his free hands towards the black armour clad men behind him.

Damn Viktor Nikiforov and his three-piece suit.

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Phichit. Seriously. It does not make any sense." 

"Can't you live a little Yuuri? Like, enjoy the feeling of victory for a second???" The smaller Thai man sighed, punching Yuuri's shoulder lightly.

"I never thought that he would just..." Yuuri started, pausing to stare through the one-sided glass at the Russian waiting patiently on the other side,

"Fall into our hands?"

"Yeah," Yuuri replied, biting his nails absently.

"I know. It's hella suspicious. We've already tried asking why we found him sitting on his own bomb in the middle of an airport." 

"And? Fruitless?"

"You know your muse way too well Yuuri." Phichit chirped back, winking at him.

Yuuri pursed his lips, well, he probably wouldn't say anything if he were in Nikiforov's position either.

"Ooh ooh, Takeshi's here." Phichit squealed rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"Really? Takeshi?" Yuuri muttered, biting down on his nail even harder.

"Oh hush Katsuki." A voice grumbled from behind them.

Yuuri flinched. "Ah captain Celestino, sorry. I..."

"Listen now. I'll have words with you later." 

"Oh my god you're gonna get whipped," Phichit whispered, patting Yuuri on the shoulder as he promptly shrugged Phichit off.

"Pich..." Yuuri hissed.

 

On the other side of the glass, Takeshi yanked out his chair opposite to the seemingly calm Russian man. 

"So, Viktor, mind if I call you that?" Takeshi started, removing a few sheets of paper from the plain manila folder he'd brought in with him.

"Takeshi Nishigori. Sergeant. Twenty-four years old." Viktor murmured bringing his fingers up to eye levels to fiddle with his nails.

"How the hell did you..." Takeshi hissed, hands clenched on the table.

"Married to-"

"Shut the hell up. I don't think you quite understand what position you're in." Takeshi growled, finally spitting out "Mr Nikiforov."

 

Yuuri let out a long sigh from the other side of the glass, not even bothering to spare Celestino a glance.

"He sure bit that bait." Phichit sighed, bringing his hand to cover his face. "Really bad."

"Give it a moment, he might just be doing it on purpose." Celestino reasoned, waving his hands as if to dispel the displeasure of his subordinates.

 

"I'm sitting in a chair. In a police precinct." Viktor replied, a small smile playing on his lips.

After a tense silence, Takeshi opened his mouth. "What were you planning to do with the bomb?"

"Beats me."

"Alright," Takeshi grumbled, scribbling a few notes on his lecture pad.

"What's there to write."

"That you're obviously not complying." Takeshi grinned.

Viktor started with a laugh. "I don't know what you expect me to tell you."

"Names? Numbers? Dates?" Takeshi sighed, sifting through papers.

"October 24th 2010," Viktor muttered with a smile. "Triplets. Congratulations by the way."

After another long silence, even the spectators on the other side of the mirror holding their breath.

"You son of a-"

"Takeshi. That'll be enough." A voice boomed through the speakers in the interrogation room shaking both men.

"Captain!" Yuuri squeaked immediately regretting opening his mouth as the mouth of the Russian on the other side of the glass slowly curled into a smile.

"How kind of you to join us. Detective Katsuki." Viktor cooed, waving at his reflection in the glass.

 

Yuuri paled, glancing between Celestino, whose finger hovered over the microphone button, and the all too jovial Russian. WHO'S STILL FREAKING WAVING LIKE A FIVE-YEAR-OLD!?

 

Takeshi jolted upright out of his seat, nearly causing it to fall over, gathering his papers hurriedly as he walked out. 

"It was nice meeting you," Viktor said, smiling.

Outside Takeshi collapsed backwards against the door, letting out a long sigh as he covered his face with his arms.

"Takeshi are you alr-" Yuuri asked, reaching out tentatively.

"What a fucking freak." He hissed, moving a few fingers to look down at the younger man.

"You okay man?" Phichit asked, leaning in from behind Yuuri.

"I knew he could be quite the piece of work, but, how did he know all those things?" Takeshi asked, lips quivering.

"He knows a lot of things..." Yuuri murmured, watching Celestino address a few of the senior officers further down the hall.

"Celestino shouldn't have put me up to that. That Nikiforov is nothing like a common thug." Takeshi grumbled, "Shouldn't this be right up your alley Katsuki? I thought Nikiforov was your catch."

"Y..yes but you know me. I...I'm-" Yuuri stuttered.

"A little too inexperienced, as much as you have been chasing him." Celestino interrupted, causing the three men to jump.

 "Captain." They all greeted in unison.

"Gentlemen." He nodded. "Katsuki, a word." 

"I'll talk to you guys later." Yuuri sighed, throwing Phichit a glance and patting Takeshi on the shoulder.

 

* * *

 

 

 

"You want me to talk to Nikiforov!?" Yuuri hissed in the relative safety of Celestino's office.

"Yes."

He opened his mouth, ready to make some self-deprecating statement about his anxiety.

"Why me?" He opted for instead.

"Nikiforov likes you." Celestino sighed, collapsing back into his chair grabbing his lighter and yanking out an unopened pack of cigarettes.

"You really shouldn't..." Yuuri started, eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh at least give me this Yuuri. After everything that's been happening in the precinct today."

"Captain..." Yuuri sighed, flinching as Celestino chucks the pack and lighter back into a draw before slamming it shut, shooting a glare in his direction. 

"He's interested in you. Besides you've been playing cat and mouse with the man for more than a year now."

"And who exactly has been the mouse?" Yuuri asked, plopping himself down into the chair in front of the desk.

"Oh don't remind me, we've got him now!" 

"Got him exactly where he wants to be?" Yuuri muttered, fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve.

"Probably. It'll be alright, he can't really do anything sitting in an interrogation room."

"Maybe that's the point." 

"Ugh. You may be a genius of sorts but sometimes you need to work with what we have. We'll keep a good eye on him. Once we get a few answers out of him we'll put him in the highest security facility we can get."

"Celest-"

"Stop. Before you even say it."

 

A knock reverberated through the room, cutting through the hum of background noise.

"Come in."

"S..sorry if I'm interrupting, captain." A red-highlighted tuft of blonde stuck its head into the room. "Ah, hello Katsuki. C..congrats on catching Nikiforov, it was really amazing, all your work over the past few years. FINALLY, I mean you nearly caught him a few times but-"

Celestino coughed, "What did you need to tell us, Minami?" 

"R...right. Results on the bomb came back from the lab. Not quite sure whether to call it good news or bad news. But I guess it's good news since it's not bad but-" 

"Out with it." 

"The black box with flashing lights on it's just that. A black box with flashing lights on it."

"Wait. What?!" Yuuri scoffed.

"The lights, the timer. It's just for show. In other words: it's a hoax."

"What. The. Hell." Celestino hissed.

"What the actual-" Yuuri started.

"Fuck." Celestino finished.

"We're having a word with Mr Nikiforov, right now. Yuuri."

"Yes, captain."

"Get your shit together."

"Good luck Katsuki-senpai!" Minami chirped before ducking back out of the room.

"Excitable as always isn't he?" Yuuri murmured to himself as he pulled himself up out of his chair, wiping his already sweating hands on his trousers.

 

* * *

 

 

 

"You're gonna do fine Yuuri. Just ask a few questions. Just a few questions, that's all."

"Pich I do not need a pep talk," Yuuri grumbled slicking his hair back.

"God, you do look the badass part now, if I might say so myself." Phichit cooed, winking whilst tightening his tie.

"Why was this necessary, exactly?" Yuuri asks, squinting at his blurry figure in the mirror.

"Trust me. You look badass as hell." 

"Pich that wasn't my question."

"Here, put your contacts in. I'm not that one you're going to be interrogating, Detective Katsuki~" Phichit laughed, drawing out his name.

As he puts his contacts in he glances at himself. A jet black three-piece suit clings to the curves of his body, hair slicked back. He looked...different.

"Get out my way and let me do my job." Yuuri snapped back playfully, just going along with his best friend's antics. 

"WHOO, that's the way baby." Phichit whistled, pretending to faint against the wall of the bathroom as Yuuri walked past him.

Yuuri stepped into the corridor, every hair on his body standing straight as he yanked on his tie, feeling the eyes of every single person on him.

"Y..Yuuri?" Yuuko stuttered, a hand muffling her words.

"Jesus what the fu- OW" Takeshi hissed as Yuuko smacked a hand over the back of his head.

"You look...great Yuuri," Yuuko muttered as Yuuri passed by her, her eyes running up and down his figure.

"Thanks, Yuuko," Yuuri replied, shooting her a smile as he continued down the corridor.

"What happened to our innocent little Yuuri?"

 

Yuuri cringed, pretending like he hadn't heard that comment. He had to admit, he looked different, felt different even. He let out a sigh before knocking on the spectator's room. 

"Come in." Celestino's muffled voice replied.

Yuuri poked his head into the room, squinting as his eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness.

"Captain."

"You ready Katsuki?"

"Yep." He replied, biting his lip.

"Go get 'em, tiger!" Phichit drawled from his seat on the other side of the room.

Yuuri rolled his eyes before backing back out of the room and closing the door quietly and turning to the next door a metre and a half further.

"You are Yuuri fucking Katsuki." He chanted to himself as he braced his fingers against the door knob. 

"Ugh." He muttered under his breath as he turned the handle, stepping into the interrogation room.

 

There's only enough room for Detective Katsuki in this room. Not Yuuri anxious like a deer in front of fucking headlights Katsuki.

 

* * *

 

 

 

The immediate sight he was confronted with made him want to laugh really, however, his face muscles didn't seem to be responding properly so only produced a smirk.

 

Nikiforov had been leaning back in his chair enjoying a cup of coffee. When the other man entered the room not only had he lost his balance but he'd also choked on the coffee he had been enjoying. Really it was of surprisingly high quality for the police. He coughed and spluttered as the cop came to stand on the opposite side of the table.

 

From the other side of the glass, Phichit snickered. "Look at him. The look plastered on Nikiforov's face. Priceless. Bastard never saw it coming. Look at our Yuuri growing up. LOOK CELESTINO HE'S SMIRKING." 

 

"What a wonderful greeting." Yuuri chuckled, a crooked grin on his face.

"Been a while *cough* Detective." 

"You alright there? Wouldn't want you dying before I could ask you a few questions." He mused teasingly.

Nikiforov simply stared at him in open horror until another coughing fit broke their staring contest. 

"Not such a bad place to die though," Viktor said, grimacing as another cough surfaced. He was making a fool of himself.

"Would you have preferred to die back at the airport?" Yuuri asked as he yanked out the chair and collapsed into it, crossing his arms as he slammed his papers down on the table.

"Well it's a bit late for that now isn't it," Viktor replied, a smile on his face.

"Well, you wouldn't have died anyway. It was a dud. We're not that stupid Nikiforov." Yuuri grumbled, pulling the lid off his pen. 

Had he looked away for a moment longer he would not have noticed the momentary look of confusion and a flash of anger that crossed through the other man's icy blue eyes.

"Is something wrong?" Yuuri asked, scribbling across the pad to get the pen working.

It looks cool Phichit said. It fits your look Phichit said. He also forgot to mention it doesn't work. Yuuri sighed and rolled his eyes, putting the pen back down on the page and glaring into the reflective glass.

"The bomb was a dud?" Viktor asked leaning onto the table.

"Yes. Why are you asking me it was your plan after all..." Yuuri started, eyes trained.

"HA. That's great. Just great." Viktor wheezed, breaking into fits of laughter.

"What's great?"

"Every-fucking-thing is great Detective. I'm just getting old." Viktor replied, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

Yuuri raised an eye at this, "the bomb wasn't yours?"

"Would you believe me if I said it wasn't?" He taunted back, cerulean eyes drilling into the detective's.

"Yes." He replied, sounding a lot surer than he really was.

Viktor watched passively for a moment, lips partially open. 

"I did not plant that bomb."

"You never personally carry out any of your brainchildren." Yuuri retorted nonchalantly.

"You know what I'm saying."

"Maybe I don't." Yuuri jeered, absently running the dead pen over paper as if he were writing.

"None of my people were involved in the planting of that bomb. So before you go chasing after the Bratva, drop it." Viktor affirmed, his usually cheery facade replaced with a sober grimace.

"Care to tell me why we found you sitting on it then?" Yuuri smirked.

 

Silence.

 

"Sorry detective. I can't say." He huffed, leaning his head back till he was staring at the ceiling.

"So it was another gang." Yuuri pushed, watching as Viktor tensed.

"Maybe, maybe not." Viktor goaded in a sing-song fashion.

"You can't bullshit me Nikiforov." Yuuri quipped, staring the Russian man down as their eyes met.

His usually bright blue eyes turned a much darker grey reminiscent of the depths of a stormy sea.

"I'm done here." He replied in a near whisper as he shifted his gaze to the wall behind the policeman.

 

Yuuri blinked. He wasn't quite sure what to make of any of this. He gathered his papers calmly, tucking the notepad where Nikiforov wouldn't be able to see it. He stood, cringing at the sound of metal scraping against the linoleum floor as he pushed the chair back in. He strolled over to the door as casually as his shaking legs would allow pausing when he heard the man behind him shift.

"Detective?" 

"Yes?" Yuuri turned to look at him.

"Could you apologise to that Nishigori fellow for me? No one is going to target his family if that's any reassurance." He sighed before shooting Yuuri an apologetic smile.

"Didn't know you had a kind streak in you," Yuuri remarked, watching the Russian shift uncomfortably under his intense stare.

"Just, promise me you'll tell him I made an apology of sorts."

"A..alright. I'll tell him."

"Thank you," Viktor replied, staring down at his hands bashfully.

"You're welcome, I guess." Yuuri turned the door handle, sucking in the fresh air.

"There's a lot of things you don't know, Yuuri." Viktor murmured as he left.

 

As the door slammed behind him he felt his knees lock as he leant back against the door.

"Yuuri? Are you okay?" A worried voice called, sounding like it was coming from much too far away.

"That was the second time he called me by name..." A blush slowly creeping onto his cheek.


	2. The Lynching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri just wants to go home after this ridiculously long day but really, nothing ever works when you want it to. In fact things just go from bad to even worse. Viktor just being Viktor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around guys! I'm hoping this will be a pretty long fic but not sure quite how long yet but at least 10 chapters! Please drop a comment if you're enjoying!

 

> **"You keep taking the upper hand**
> 
>  
> 
> **And you're leaving me exposed"**
> 
>  
> 
> **Wildcard**
> 
> **-Mickey Valen**

 

>  

* * *

 

 

 

 

Yuuri clutched a steaming cup of coffee in his pudgy hands. As soon as he'd escaped the room he'd run off to strip himself from that suit hoping the cloud of his anxiety would leave with it. But here it was, still bouncing around inside his head making his fingers tap against his desk twice as fast as usual and flinch at every sound that was just a little too loud.

"Yuuri? Oi Yuuri? Yuuuuuriiiii???" Phichit howled in his ear, jarring him out of his reverie.

"O..oh ah, Phichit? What is it?" 

"Are you okay? You're really spaced out." 

"I'm alright. I just still haven't figured it out."

"Yuuri we've had this conversation before. I don't know what's happening in your head. Figured what out?"

Yuuri smiled apologetically, yet fondly, at his friend, "why Nikiforov played into our hands, of course."

"Well that can wait, I think someone wants to talk to you." Phichit gestured behind him at Minami Kenjirou bouncing from foot to foot.

 

"S..sorry, hello. The captain was wondering if you'd like to come along for Nikiforov's transfer to Newhart Detention." 

"Eh? Newhart? Isn't that a little, I don't know, rough for a pretty boy like Viktor Nikiforov?" Phichit asked, eyes flittering between Yuuri and Minami.

"You're forgetting he was mafia Phichit." Yuuri sighed, pushing his papers into a slightly more orderly pile on his desk.

"And Minami, tell that captain I'll be there in a few minutes."

 

Minami nodded before skittering back off into the busy precinct.

 

Katsuki watched as a few men, including Minami, piled Nikiforov into the black SUV waiting curbside outside the station. He quickly opened a pack of sugar and stirred into his coffee, willing it to dissolve slower. 

 

This is perfectly routine. A perfectly routine transfer. Nothing is going to happen. Why would anything happen? He pulled his coat closer around his shoulders before stepping out of the precinct into the darkness, the icy wind and snow immediately cutting through him. He dashed to the safety, and warmth thankfully, of the waiting car.

"Good afternoon Katsuki." The driver mumbled whilst programming in a GPS on their dashboard.

"Afternoon Williams."

"Newhart right?" Yuuri buckled his seatbelt in, the satisfying click of the mechanism locking in place grounding.

"Yes, Newhart."

 

Yuuri glanced into the rearview mirror only to see a pair of blue eyes staring expectantly right back at him. The car pulled out smoothly and drove into the bustle of the city. After a few awkward minutes of Williams humming, someone decided to speak.

"You know I won't last more than a week in prison right?" Viktor asked, more rhetorically than anything.

"You'd better learn how to fight quickly then." Yuuri quipped, earning a snicker from the other men in the car.

Yuuri glanced into the rearview mirror, the small grin on his face fading as he noticed another car doing oddly aggressive manoeuvres behind them.

"Hey that car behind us is-"  He started before he was thrown to the left side, blackness going over his vision as shattered glass covered his lap.

 

Yuuri pulled a gasp into his screaming lungs. It was a little hard to tell whether he was breathing or drowning.

"Fuck...Williams?" He choked out, opening one eye as he noticed the other was covered by something.

Williams lay unconscious over the steering wheel, blood dripping lazily from a few head wounds. 

"Someone fucking rammed us!" Yuuri howled at the car which had struck them slowly reversing away.

In the back seat, Nikiforov sat looking rather calm in a sea of absolute panic. A moment later Minami stirred immediately undoing his seatbelt.

"Italians? F..fuck there's so many of them. They're getting out of their cars!" Yuuri hissed, unbuckling his own seatbelt.

 

Suddenly bullets started flying the sound of ricochets and breaking glass filling the enclosed space. Yuuri growled under his breath yanking his handgun and firing back in the general direction of his attackers, stopping only when the incoming fire seemed to subside.

"S...shit I'm hit." Minami croaked, holding his own shaking, blood covered hand in front of him.

"I'm gonna die. I don't wanna die like this oh my god I'm gonna die mum dad I love you I'm sorry I didn't go to your barbecue last Saturday I'm-"

"If you don't shut the fuck up I'm going to kill you!" Viktor roared, yanking the younger man's gun out of his holster, flicking off the safety and firing out of the car.

"What the hell are you..."Minami started, suppressing a groan as Viktor pressed a hand against his bullet wound, already dying his shirt a deep red.

"We need to keep pressure on the wound." Viktor hissed between his teeth.

"I..Is there a lot of b...blood?!"

 

"Is he alr-" Yuuri spared a glance to the back of the car.

"We need to get out of this car."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Yuuri hissed, shooting out the window haphazardly.

"We're sitting ducks here!"

"Shit, there's so many of them!"

Viktor reached over the still panicking boy and shoving the door open before head-shotting the three nearest men. Minami shakily pulled out his radio.

"We need fucking...ugh...backup." He hissed into the radio, clutching it shakily, letting out a scream as Viktor yanked him out of the car and into the snow.

"SON OF A BITCH!" Minami howled, his knuckles turned white around his radio as a staticky reply came in.

"Minami?! Minami stay with us! Help is on its way." Yuuko's worried tone filling the spaces between their gasps for air.

 

Viktor yanked the radio out of the boy's hand, eyes still flickering across the snowy road at the cars surrounding them as he heaved out heavy breaths.

"This is Nikiforov, we need an ambulance. Probably a few- FUCK!" He dived out of view of another suit clad attacker as a bullet landed between the man's eyes.

"Got him." Yuuri hissed as he collapsed down beside the other two men.

"How many?"

"3 at 4 o'clock, another 3 or so at 7," Yuuri grumbled, reloading his gun and tossing Nikiforov another clip.

"Now THIS is a terrible way to go," Viktor muttered, sticking his head over the car bonnet to get a look at the slowly approaching men.

"6 on 2? Really?" Yuuri replied, shooting out the knees of the nearest man.

"Make that 5.5." 

"You can't have half a-" 

"Sure I can."

Yuuri rolled his eyes, fighting the adrenalin fuelled grin clawing its way onto his face, before grumbling, "I haven't told Takeshi that you apologised yet so I really don't plan on dying. You should apologise to him yourself you know. In person later."

Viktor's eyes widened for a moment, a soft smile spreading across his face.

"Oh thank god the cavalry is here," Viktor grunted, letting the gun relax into his lap as the attackers withdrew to their cars and drove off.

"I should probably give this back before someone shoots me." Viktor chuckled, handing the gun over to Yuuri as cops dashed over to them.

 

Viktor paused and looked down at Minami. "How are you going there pipsqueak?"

"Fucking hurts."

"It's just a flesh womb, calm your farm," Viktor replied, patting the boy on the head patronisingly.

"How many injured? The policeman asked Yuuri, steadying him by his shoulders as he tried to stand.

"Uh...uh...Williams, M..Minami here and the other one in the backseat. Nikiforov, you alright?" Yuuri asked, sucking in a breath as he leant against the bullet-hole riddled car.

A pair of paramedics lifted Minami into a gurney and shifted him to their truck hurriedly.

 

"Ah, yes. Katsuki? You don't look so g-" Viktor started, letting out a small squeak as the detective collapsed right into his lap.

"I haven't slept in fucking...ha. Care to tell me why we nearly got wiped out by a bunch of Italian mafia goons?" Yuuri muttered, eyes fluttering closed.

"Yuuri!" Phichit shrieked from across the road.

"D...detective?" Viktor stuttered, a shaking hand pressed to the back of the smaller man who was now out cold.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Yuuri jolted awake body frozen, sweat plastering his clothes to his body. He breathed heavily, clutching at his chest, flinching as a bird flew past his window.

"Where am-"

"Yuuuuuuri!!! You're awake!" Phichit sang as he pushed into the room carrying a food filled tray with him.

Yuuri blinked. Right. This was his and Phichit's apartment.

"Breakfast in bed for you!" He chirped, putting the tray down in Yuuri's lap.

"Phich, how long have I been out?"

"More than 12 hours. Hmm...maybe 15?"

"Oh shit. What time is it?!" Yuuri choked, reaching for his glasses.

"It's only 11 in the morning. You've got the whole day off Yuuri, please just stay at home. Rest. Recover." Phichit implored, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Phich..."

"I've got the day off too to make sure you take the day off."

"Really it's not necessary-"

"Captains orders."

Yuuri grumbled, shoving another spoonful of congee into his mouth.

"Atta-boy!" Phichit cooed, ruffling his hair.

"Ugh, Phich," Yuuri whined, slapping the hand away.

 

After breakfast was finished Phichit removed all the plates and utensils before promptly bundling up his best friend in blankets once again.

"I don't want you getting out of bed before 1 pm." Phichit waggled a finger in his face.

Yuuri replied with a short grunt, too tired to form a cohesive reply as he turned over. Maybe he had been pushing himself a little too much lately. Phichit would get angry whenever he didn't come home, because it meant he'd stayed so late he'd fallen asleep at the precinct. Lately, he'd been sleeping on Celestino's office's couch more than his own bed. He closed his eyes, surprised by the image his mind had conjured.

 

He still didn't understand. What does Viktor Nikiforov want with the police? Why did a bunch of Italians try to kill us, well, more specifically him? What was he planning?

 

Icy blue orbs filled with a determination so deep he felt like he was drowning. Those eyes, those, admittedly beautiful eyes. Incomprehensible words poured from the Russians lips, gun held ready in one hand the other pressed against the wound of a fallen man. Who was that man? It didn't matter. Yuuri blinked, his eyes opening back to reality.

"Oh shit. Minami!" Yuuri turned over and searched for his phone on his bedside table.

"P...Phichit! Where's my phone?"

A few moments later Phichit brandished the phone, clad with his poodle case.

"Why did you need your phone?"

"Why do you have my phone?" He snapped back.

"So you can't do work behind my back." Phichit smirked, "you're such a workaholic Yuuri."

"I just want to know if Minami is alright."

"He's fine, it was just a flesh wound."

"Ah, so Viktor was right..." Yuuri let out a sigh of relief.

"Did you just call-"

"Goodnight Phichit," Yuuri grumbled, rolling over and pulling the blanket over his head.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri shuffled into the precinct, pulling his spray jacket closer around his shoulders as he tried to avoid the odd gazes of others passing by. As he rounded the corner he could see his desk. If he got that far no one would bother him.

"Yuuri!"

"Shit." He froze, turning around ever so slowly to face the source of the voice.

"Did you enjoy your day off?" Yuuko asked, smiling gently.

It was just Yuuko.

"Ah, yes. Actually, I needed to talk to Takeshi..." Yuuri muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

"Oh, a man to man talk is it? Hehe. Joking. I'll send him over here."

Yuuri nodded, watching as Yuuko weaved off into the busy station to find her husband.

 

He was gone for what felt like no time at all and yet when he returned his childhood friends had gotten married and had kids. The world sure moves on quickly.

 

"Katsuki?" Takeshi asked, rapping a few fingers against the desk to get his attention.

"Oh, T...Takeshi. Hello."

"Yuuko said you wanted to tell me something."

"Ah yes." Yuuri blinked. This seemed kinda stupid now that he thought about it.

"Well, out with it."

"Nikiforov wanted to apologise for his behaviour during the interrogation the other day and-"

"Yeah, he already apologised to me."

"Oh? He has?"

"He's here now. Didn't you know?"

"Wait. Why's he here!?" Yuuri blubbered.

"Oh god, you don't even know."

"Know what?!"

"Stupid piggy. You're the one in charge of him now. No one else wants the leash on such a beast." Takeshi chuckled causing Yuuri to cringe at the childhood nickname.

"I'm gonna go talk to the captain." Yuuri spluttered, standing up out of his chair so abruptly he nearly fell over himself.

"Katsuki! Good to see you."

"Captain."

"Do you need something?"

Yuuri swallowed, not quite sure how to approach the topic.

"Takeshi said you were putting me in charge of Nikiforov."

"That's right."

"Captain, with all due respect, why me?" Yuuri asked, running his fingers through his hair absently.

"Yuuri. You're better than you think you are. At some point, you have to stop practising and start really doing something. Now is that time." 

Taking a deep breath Yuuri faced Celestino, "guessing I don't really have a choice then?"

"The DEA wants to use him. They want info out of him Yuuri, tell him he might get a special deal from the DA so he doesn't get assassinated."

"They're willing to do a deal with him?"

"He knows the inner works of more than one gang. He could be very useful.

 

* * *

 

"Great minds think alike Katsuki."

"Or fools seldom differ," Yuuri replied, a small smirk on his lips.

"Oh come on I tried to give you a compliment!" Viktor replied, pouting.

"That we're alike?" Yuuri murmured, raising an eyebrow.

"Well not exactly..."

"Then what?"

"A good detective can see through criminal and his thoughts, a great detective thinks like a criminal," Viktor explained, gesturing at Yuuri.

Yuuri blinked. Viktor wasn't seriously saying he thought like a criminal, right?

"You would've made a great business partner." Viktor chirped, taking another sip of his coffee.

Yuuri rolled his eyes. He was starting to get used to this.

 

"They're gonna do this every time won't they?" Phichit guessed, pressing a hand against the one-way mirror.

"Probably. I'd like to say it's part of their dynamic." Celestino hummed, stroking his chin.

"Dynamic huh? The two did survive an all round assassination attention together. That is, without shooting each other either."

"Honestly, I'm surprised Nikiforov didn't just shoot Yuuri and then make off with the car."

 

"So, Mr Nikiforov, you said you were willing to talk?" 

"Yes. I have terms and conditions to put forward."

"Talking terms already?"

"We both know the DEA wants to make use of me." 

Viktor was more than smart enough to understand that as much as he was stuck in situation where he was inevitably going to end up in jail he could still play his cards to reduce his jail time.

"Alright then. What's your offer?"

 

"Uh, Celestino? Is it alright to just let Yuuri run with this? He isn't the one that is going to be deciding what happens to Nikiforov in the end." Phichit whispered, eyes not leaving his best friend on the other side of the mirror.

"We'll listen to what he wants first."

"Right."

 

"I'll help you remove the Crispinos from every crook and cranny in this godforsaken country." Viktor hissed, hands clenched around his coffee.

Yuuri's chin dropped. He struggled to regain his composure as he dropped his pen the sound resounding through the utter silence.

"W..wha-"

"You heard me right," Viktor stated, his cheery facade reduced to an angered snarl.

"Is this about them trying to assassinate you?" Yuuri coughed, bending down to snatch his pen off the ground.

"I would hardly call it an assassination attempt. They sent a bloody army after me. That was a lynching." Viktor growled, his slender fingers crushing the cardboard cup in their grasp.

Viktor raised his darkened eyes to meet the warm orbs of the startled detective.

"In r..return for what?" 

"Oh, detective you're so adorable when you're flustered." Viktor snickered, his trademark grin returned to his face, but as always, it never reached his eyes.

 


	3. The Willing Mafioso

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The department settles their agreement with Viktor in stone and Yuuri gets a little more used to Viktor's shenanigans.

> **"I don't think I stand a chance**
> 
> **When your feelings never show"**

>  

> **Wildcard**

> **-Mickey Valen**

* * *

 

"In exchange for no jail time and a brand new passport I'll disappear, if you ever see me again you can execute me on the spot." Yuuri repeated from his notes.

"He's serious isn't he?" Celestino murmured, stroking his chin.

"He has to be joking right?" Yuuri whined, pulling on a few locks of his own hair.

"We're going to put him under witness protection." 

'You're going to just agree to this?" 

"I don't see why not. If he's really going to do what's he's offering no doubt he'll disappear when he's done, unless he really does want to die." 

"What if he's just biding his time?"

"Yuuri. We had this conversation before. Just work with what we've got."

"Last time we just went with it, we ended up with two concussed cops, a cadet that got shot and 4 dead mafias." Yuuri ranted, hands wrung together.

"Well, witness protection will help with the assassination attempts."

"Alright." 

"You go tell Viktor to get himself together to move to a safe house." Celestino sighed, shifting his eyes back to the layers of paperwork covering his desk.

"Right. I'll see you later, captain."

Celestino replied with a low grunt waving Yuuri off wordlessly as he backed out of his office.

Phichit and another slightly shorter brunette waited for him outside.

"Hey, Pich. Who's this?" Yuuri asked, nodding towards the brunette.

"Cadet. Leo de la Iglesia. He'll be working with us, and in extension Nikiforov, from now on." 

"Nice to meet you. I'm Yuuri Katsuki."

"Professional Mafia Hottie Wrangler Katsuki!" Phichit added, winking.

"I look forward to uh... working with you. Please call me Leo." Leo replies, an awkward smile on his face.

"You can ignore, Phichit, nice to have a reasonable soul to work with." Yuuri smiled.

"I need to talk to Nikiforov, care to come along and watch? If you're going to get used to him better start now rather than later."

"Ah, is he bad?" Leo asked, paling slightly.

"Depends on how you define bad." Phichit piped in.

"Well. He held pressure on the other cadet who was working with us when he got shot. He's not awful, however, he'll know what buttons to push if you let it show." 

"A cadet got shot?" 

"Ah, I probably shouldn't have said that..."

"It was nothing bad just a regular thing gone a little off," Pichit reassured the newbie, patting him on the back rapidly.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The trio walked through the precinct introducing colleagues to Leo as they went.

"So this is the fresh meat." Takeshi taunted, tossing an arm over Yuuri's shoulder.

"Takeshi Nishigori. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Leo de la Iglesia." 

"So this is what you were up to. I was looking for you." A voice called from behind them, a teasing tone lining the complaint.

"N...Nikiforov?" Phichit froze.

"Hello, Chulanont, Katsuki. Who's this?" Viktor drawled, bowing slightly as he took Leo's hand kissing it and winking as he straightened leaving Leo's hand hanging.

The three men stared in complete shock. Yuuri promptly reached out and shoved their gaping mouths shut.

"Nikiforov don't make me charge you with sexual harassment," Yuuri clucked, punching Viktor's shoulder.

"Ah, I'm wounded detective. How could you?" Viktor cried, closing his eyes in mock pain as he opened one eyes to stare at the detective, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Who let you out?" Phichit asked, patting Leo's frozen shoulder gently.

"What? I'm not allowed to stretch my legs a little and freshen up?"

"No. Mostly definitely not. You're OBVIOUSLY not human." Yuuri said sarcastically, smiling, "though I'm going to have to ask you to go back. We have official business to deal with."

"Oh, made up your minds on my deal already?"

"Yes. We need to make it official so we need to record it."

With a sigh Viktor slid off the Detective's desk, brushing himself off he muttered to himself, "man, I really hate being boxed in."

 

From a distance Yuuko and Takeshi peeked from behind a wall.

"How does he do it?" Yuuko murmured to her husband.

"I...honestly don't know. They act like they've known each other for ages." Takeshi replied, watching as the four men escorted the Russian out of sight.

 

* * *

 

"So fresh meat gonna spazz out and get himself shot like Bubbly?" Viktor asked as he settled back into the cold metal chair which had become his home.

"I doubt it. He seems more grounded."

"Ooooh~. Savage. If Minami were here..." Viktor whistled, placing his cuffed hands onto the table.

"I would get you out of those cuffs but you're much too proficient with a gun to allow you outside this room uncuffed."

"Me? Proficient with guns?" Viktor asked, fluttering his eyelashes innocently.

"Your feet are bound too aren't they."

"Yes. I feel like a convict!" He chortled, jingling the chains on his feet.

"Honestly I can't tell whether you're enjoying it or being sarcastic." Yuuri chuckled, pulling out his papers.

"Well being chained up can be enjoyable, in all the right situations," Viktor whispered, barely loud enough for Yuuri to hear, flashing him a sultry smile.

"You know the mic will catch that r...right?" Yuuri stammered, a blush crawling onto his cheeks as he buried his face in his papers.

"Ah well."

 

A momentary screech came through the speakers.

"Yuuri darling we don't have all day to flirt with the Russian mafioso." Phichit voice came through the static-riddled speaker.

Viktor turned his head back to face the glass, sticking out his tongue and rolling his eyes. "Buzzkill."

"Nikiforov," Yuuri grumbled.

"Yes?"

"The police are taking you on. We're going to put you under witness protection. We agree to your terms about a fresh identity when you've done your side of the deal."

Viktor watched him, the numbers and words running behind his eyes, head buzzing with calculations.

"Do you really think that'll be enough? The witness protection that is."

"I..." Yuuri started, unsure how to reply.

"I don't mind." Viktor muttered before Yuuri could finish his reply.

"What?" Yuuri stuttered, his eyes searching the face of the other man for anything.

"I don't have much to lose, Detective." The usual bright blue quality draining slowly from his eyes. 

"There's no one you're waiting for, or, no one waiting for you?"

"Curiosity killed the cat detective," Viktor muttered, staring into Yuuri's chocolate brown eyes, eyebrows creased with worry.

Yuuri reached out and pressed a button on a panel on the wall.

"But satisfaction brought it back." Yuuri shot back. 

"You can tell me. Off the record." Yuuri said quietly putting his pen down as he glanced up at the Russian.

A look of surprise crossed his face but was quickly replaced with a smile, "You never fail to surprise me, detective."

 

"Did he just...turn off the mic and recorder?" Leo stammered, eyes wide and he struggled to make out what they were saying.

"Yes."

"I..is he even allowed to do that?" 

"Well, the captain isn't here so I'll just tell you this now. Sometimes skirting along the rules gets more done. I know you've just met him, but Yuuri really will tell us if Nikiforov says something important." Phichit chided, a hand pressed against the glass.

"Ah, okay. I guess he's just earning his trust." Leo stuttered, lips pulled into a tight line.

Pichit sighed. As much as he made up sentiments to feed to the new kid, Celestino really would have his head for this. That is, only if he found out. It wasn't possible to tell what Viktor was saying, or if he was speaking at all since he had his back to the mirror.

"Yuuri what are you doing?" Phichit whispered, staring at his friend's unusually calm facade.

 

 

* * *

 

Yuuri conversed quietly with a few cops dressed in civilian attire, glancing over his shoulder at a glaring Phichit every few seconds.

"I'll see you out front in twenty then," Yuuri affirmed, turning to walk back to his partner.

Phichit met him halfway grabbing his arm and dragging him to the nearest interrogation room and slamming the door shut behind them in the face of a very confused Leo.

"Phich I need to leave soon. Can this wait?" Yuuri sighed, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"No. What the hell was that Yuuri?" Phichit hissed, shoving Yuuri over to the table in the middle of the room.

"Oh? Turning off the mic and recorder?"

"Yes? What did he tell you?" Phichit grumbled before punching a few buttons on the panel next to him.

"Are you seriously recording-"

"Yes. Yuuri, what did Nikiforov tell you when you turned off the mic?" Phichit reiterated.

"Phichit..."

"Lying to a police officer is a crime Yuuri."

"Seriously, he told me nothing."

"You did not spend those three minutes in absolute silence Yuuri."

"It's not what you think-"

"Then what is it Yuuri?!"

"He asked me what my favourite tea is." Yuuri sighed, staring at his hands in his lap.

"He what?"

"Also asked what my favourite food is."

"Are you fucking kidding me," Phichit scoffed. 

"No, I am actually not."

"Oh my god, that little shit was probably counting on me interrogating you."

Yuuri smiled apologetically to his friend rubbing his shoulder fondly as he reached out to turn the recorder and mic off.

"Are you coming with us to escort the prince to the palace." Yuuri queried.

"Really? That's what we're calling it? The Russian Prince and his lovely palace on the hill?" Phichit laughed.

"It does suit him, doesn't it?"

"Alright, I'm coming. I really hope we don't get rammed this time, I'm not nearly as good in the field as you." Phichit joked, earning a cringe from his best friend.

 

* * *

 

10 minutes later Yuuri shuffled back into the bustling main corridor of the precinct in a standard grey sweatshirt and faded jeans, Phichit dressed in a similar fashion. They joined a group of a dozen or so men huddled near the entrance. A few minutes later the chatter was lowered as Celestino himself tread heavily down the corridor Viktor, still cuffed at the hands and wrists, in tow. Yuuri blinked once, then twice, then three times rapidly.

"Hello, Detective," Viktor called, waving awkwardly with two hands.

"Ah..H..Hi..." Yuuri stammered, eyes glancing the other man up and down.

He was dressed like the other 14 people present in the room. This way it would be harder to identify Viktor amongst them. A loose grey hoodie that despite being loose seemed to hug the toned Russian in all the right places. The jeans fitting to his surprisingly toned legs, reminiscent of those of a dancer, toned in all the right...

Yuuri swallowed a lump down his throat, looking away as a blush crept onto his cheek.

"Is something wrong with my attire?" He asked, jolting Yuuri out of his fantasy.

"N...No. Just a little different."

"Nothing like a suit amirite?" Viktor chirped before shooting him a trademark grin.

Celestino rolled his eyes, giving Viktor a firm shove from behind. "Let's move it, we've all got jobs to get on with Nikiforov."

"Right, right. Right after you, detective." Viktor nodded towards Yuuri.

Phichit glared at Viktor, grabbing Yuuri's arm and dragging him out into the blinding white of the snow.

 

The men all piled out after them, Viktor practically disappearing in the sea of grey sweatshirts and jeans. But no a moment later Phichit yanked open the door of the third SUV shoving Yuuri in followed by Nikiforov then sliding himself in before slamming the door shut.

"I was thinking..." Viktor started, a small pout forming on his face.

"Ugh," Celestino interjected, rolling his eyes.

"What's wrong Captain?"

"Kid, do you ever shut up?" 

"Hah. Do you really want to sit through this whole ride in silence? I'll be quick, promise." He murmured, glancing down at the smaller raven-haired man beside him who seemed to be staring absently out the window.

"Whatever," Celestino muttered, pulling his hands out of his gloves.

"I was wondering if it was possible for me to leave the safe house at any point."

"Oh god..." Phichit lamented, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I want to go ice skating." Viktor sighed, looking out the window.

"Skating?" Yuuri asked, attention drawn away from the buildings flickering by outside.

"Yes."

"How do you expect us to magically have a rink all to ourselves."

"Pretty please!" Viktor whined, clasping his hands together, puppy eyes drilling into the men in the car.

"I might be able to do something about that..." Yuuri murmured, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

"Thank you so much, Detective!" Viktor squealed, giving Yuuri a huge, heart-shaped smile and pressing his cheek against the man's shoulder.

When was the last time Yuuri saw him smile like that...

"N..No problem..." Yuuri stuttered, fighting the blush crawling up his neck.

"Ugh, get off Yuuri, you leech." Phichit gibed between fits of laughter, yanking Viktor back into the middle of the car, leaving Yuuri still crushed up against the furthest frames of the car.

 

* * *

 

What felt like a painfully long time later the men spilt out of the cars, eyes panning for anything suspicious. 

"What a lovely palace." Phichit dead-panned, yanking Nikiforov towards the quaint looking house.

The door creaked open tediously letting out a long groan reminiscent of an old man getting out of bed. The safe house had remained unused for quite a while, nearly falling into disrepair if not for a few odd check-ups. Phichit strolled into the living room, collapsing on the couch and flicking on the television, effectively making himself at home.

"Everything you'll need should be, uh, wherever it is people put things." Yuuri sighed, shuffling off down one of the corridors.

"Clothes? What about food?" Viktor asked, glancing into the bedroom.

"Yeah there should already be a week's worth of food in the fridge and um, clothes...Let me check." Yuuri pushed past the curious Russian moving into a walk in cupboard on the opposite side of the room.

"Ah...seems up your alley," Yuuri called, browsing absently through the hundreds of items on the rack ranging from jeans to expensive...3 piece suits.

"More than I expected."

"That's good, I guess."

"Mm."

 

After a short silence, Yuuri muttered in a clipped tone, "I'll be leaving then."

"Ah, Detective. One more thing." 

"Yes?" Yuuri paused at the bedroom door, a hand against the door frame as he turned around. 

"Cuffs, please?"

"Oh yeah, right." Yuuri sighed, fishing the keys out of his pockets.

He knelt down to first uncuff the leg cuffs. He undid the cuffs with a few swift turns of his wrists, shoving them into one of the pockets of his sweatshirt.

"Hey, Detective." Viktor started, causing the raven-haired man to look up at the Russian's unreadable expression. "You're looking beautiful down there." 

Yuuri coughed before standing up abruptly, a blush blown over his usually pale cheeks.

"Turn around." He barked, roughly yanking the handcuffs off the Russian before marching out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo! Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please leave a comment and some kudos if you'd like. Just letting you guys know that while I plan to update regularly I'm headed back to school soon and might not be able to update as regularly as I'd like. Just a heads up! Thanks for sticking with me and EXTRA SPECIAL thanks to those who left those super nice comments.


	4. Down on the Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri takes a little time off to take some time on the ice and Phichit discovers a side of his best friend he'd never imagined before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hallo, hallo everyone! Here's the newest chapter hope you enjoy it. Don't forget to drop some kudos or a comment if you enjoy!

 

 

 

>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **I always cave now**  
>  **Back for round two**
> 
> **WIldcard**
> 
> **-Mickey Valen**

* * *

Phichit strolled into the kitchen, his nose twitching at the smell of burnt toast.

"Ah, good morning, De...oh it's just you Chulanont."

"So I don't deserve that puppy face greeting of yours?" Phichit grumbled, opening the fridge and pulling out the milk.

Phichit did a rapid 360 in a search for cups.

"Where the hell are all the cups?" He sighed, searching several different cupboards to no avail.

"Here. Use this one I didn't end up needing it." Viktor held out a fine china cup embellished with a deep blue image of the sea.

"Ah, thanks," Phichit muttered, looking into the cup.

"What?"

"Just checking if you've done something to it."

"If I wanted you dead, you would already be dead." Viktor chuckled, opening a newspaper as he settled down in front of his breakfast.

"Fair point."

Phichit quietly poured himself a cup of milk in the dead silence of the kitchen, interspersed with the passing chirps of birds outside and the crinkle of newspaper pages.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I'm here?" Phichit asked, watching the other man cautiously.

"To check up on me?" Viktor smiled, taking another sip of his coffee.

"No actually. Babysitting is Yuuri's job. I mean, Detective Katsuki's~"

Viktor pressed a finger to his lips, an eyebrow quirked in amusement, "then why are you here?"

"Yuu- Katsuki made some arrangements with an ice rink. I sure as hell hope you'll stop making stupid demands after this."

"We're skating today?"

"Yes, hurry up and go get changed into whatever it is you want to wear."

"Yessir!" Viktor chimed before skipping out of the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

 

As the small convoy walked towards the rink the sound of blades cutting through the ice filled the silent arena. A momentary silence as skates left the ice before they touching down just a moment later. Viktor ignored the convoy and continued to the barrier of the rink, resting his elbows on the barrier as he observed the lone figure dancing across the ice.

"He gets really into it when he's alone on the ice," Phichit whispered, joining Viktor to lean against the barrier.

"Beautiful isn't he?" Viktor murmured, a finger pressed to his lips in thought.

"Wha-"

"Where are my skates?" He whined, striding away from the rather confused Thai.

 

Viktor laced up his skates under Phichit's watchful eye.

"Mind if I ask why you're watching me so intently?" Viktor queried, not shifting his eyes from his skates.

"Who knows what you could do with a pair of blades on your feet..."

"They're rentals, probably not very much." Viktor laughed at the ridiculousness of the thought of using skates as a weapon.

When he was done Viktor marched over to the edge of the rink purposefully, that is, until he got to there. Should he share the ice with the detective? Should he just get in? Should he wait for his presence to be acknowledged before he enters the rink? The other man looked like he was so absorbed in his skating. Phichit stood beside him, an eyebrow raised at the Russian's sudden indecisiveness. Yuuri slowed down on the ice, gliding over to greet them.

"Is that you, Phichit? Nikiforov?" He asked, squinting at the pair.

"Put your glasses on before you hurt yourself, man." Phichit sighed, handing Yuuri his glasses.

"You skate without your glasses?"

"Uh, yeah it helps me relax." Yuuri murmured, taking his drink bottle from Phichit's hands and guzzling it down.

"I'm gonna take a break, feel free to take the ice." Yuuri murmured, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve as he stepped off the ice, pulling his skate guards on.

 

He returned a few minutes later, joining Phichit rinkside.

"What's he humming?" Phichit asked, using his phone to check the time.

"Humming?" Yuuri stilled, trying to hear over the scrape of metal against ice.

Ah. There it was. A low melody, a heart-tugging mixture of longing and resignation [1] that reverberated against the walls.

"I don't know...but it does sound rather familiar." Yuuri murmured, eyes transfixed on the man gliding across the ice, arms outstretched as if reaching towards someone.

"Both of you are pretty good skaters."

"I'm nothing special Phich. But Nikiforov. He skates the way he kills."

"H..how, in any way, does skating relate to killing?"

"A graceful, solemn elegance." Yuuri murmured, not really paying attention to his partner.

 

* * *

 

"Viktor fucking Nikiforov, you sick bastard!" Phichit roared, throwing an empty plastic cup across the table at him.

"Oh my god, Phich, calm down!" Yuuri giggled, barely able to suppress full blown laughter.

"It's not my fault you stepped on my property." Viktor guffawed, wiping tears of mirth from his face as a cushion flew across the table hitting him smack-dab in the face.

"Playing Monopoly with this guy was a terrible idea, Yuuri. He has absolutely no mercy." Phichit whined, banging his head against the table.

"Maybe you're just bad at Monopoly, Phich," Yuuri snickered before promptly getting punched in the shoulder.

"Both of you are terrible!" Phichit cried, faking tears.

"I was in the mafia. Did you seriously expect to win against me?" Cackled Viktor, the serious snarl on his face melting into unrestrained giggling as he collapsed to the floor beside Yuuri who was laughing so hard he clutched his side in pain.

"This is so unfair," Phichit whined, wobbling to his feet, "I'm going to the bathroom." he slurred before shuffling off into the dark recesses of the house.

 

"Fuck me. That was beautiful." Viktor wheezed, chest still heaving.

"The look on his face when he landed on that hotel." Yuuri chuckled, facing Viktor while trying to replicate Phichit's horrified expression.

Viktor laughed, desperately holding his hand over his mouth as the two men burst back into merriment.

"Man, I haven't had this much fun in years." Viktor sighed, still wiping tears from his eyes as he faced the detective.

The moment their eyes met a soft look of fondness flashed through the older man's eyes, only to be quickly replaced by a cold emptiness.

"Are you both still laughing at me?" Phichit grumbled as he sauntered back into the living room causing Yuuri to jerk back into a sitting position.

"Stop being a sore loser Phichit," Viktor mumbled, pulling himself into a sitting position.

"Stop messing around and finish this game so I can go home and take a shower. It's nearly nine o'clock already." Phichit grunted, placing a fallen cup back onto the table.

 

* * *

 

 

"You won this time Nikiforov. But I'm winning next time." Yuuri claimed as he pulled his coat on.

"There'll be a next time?" Viktor asked as he pulled the door open.

"Yeah, and next time we're bringing Leo!" Phichit crowed.

"Just so you're not the first to lose Phich?" Yuuri snickered, wrapping an arm around his friend's shoulder.

"Ugh shut the hell up Yuuri. Goodnight Nikiforov." Phichit grumbled, shoving his friend's arm off and marching down the steps towards their car.

"Goodnight Chulanont."

"Goodnight Mr Nikiforov," Yuuri said.

"Oh, detective, why be so formal? We'll be seeing a lot more or each other now. Please, call me Viktor."

"Alright. Goodnight then, V...Viktor." Yuuri stammered, burying his face in his scarf.

Yuuri dashed off down the steps of the house tripping on the last step and throwing himself right into Phichit.

"Detective are you-" Viktor called out, half stepped out of the house in just a pair of track pants and shirt.

"I'm fine, I'm ok," Yuuri called back, jumping back from Phichit's shocked embrace.

"Ah okay..." Viktor murmured, glancing down at his toes buried in the snow at his doorstep.

Viktor watched silently as Yuuri brushed off his knees, apologising profusely to Phichit. He leant against the door frame the chilling cold suddenly not bothering him. Yuuri shuffled to the car door, pausing.

"Viktor?" Yuuri called.

"Yes, Detective?"

"It's not like you to listen to anyone either way, but feel free to call me Yuuri." 

"Yuu...ri." Viktor stammered, letting the syllables drip from his tongue as the car started, pulled out and whirred down the street.

Viktor closed the front door, leaning back against it the moment it clicked close, holding a hand against his forehead and closed his eyes murmured, "Yuri...What the hell am I doing?"

He lumbered into the living room glancing over the mess of items Phichit had thrown in every which direction in his post-monopoly madness. He gathered up a few cushions on the furthest side of the room. He would miss this.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri padded over to the couch, shoving aside a few cushions before collapsing into it and pulling his arm over his eyes.

"Yuuri you can't sleep there." Phichit sighed, pausing in the doorway.

Yuuri replied with a non-committal grunt.

"Okay fine, but you can't sleep without taking a shower. Don't make me drag you into the shower."

"Phich, I really don't want to move."

"I never make empty threats Katsuki."

"You go shower first. I'll shower, I swear." Yuuri sighed, turning over to face the back of the couch.

"Okay."

For a while Yuuri remained still, tugging his coat further around him, a shiver running down his spine. The familiar sound of the shower screeching to life accompanied by a few expletives from Phichit brought a small smile to his face. He shifted, rolling back over to face the light spattered wall, the dancing lights passing from one corner of the room to the other. Yuuri rolled off the couch shuffling over to the bookshelf on the furthest wall immediately reaching for a dusty leather bound book, "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes." Yuuri gently opened the cover, his fingers moving to trace the words penned in the top right corner of the first page.

 

"For our precious children Yuuri and Mari Katsuki-

Toshiya and Hiroko Katsuki"

 

Yuuri flipped another page, pulling out a photo tucked between the pages. He shakily replaced the book on the shelf turning his eyes back to the back of the photo.

 

"Yuutopia Onsen, Detroit, 2009 29th November: Yuu-kun's birthday." The faded blue ink read.

 

Yuuri flipped the photo, trembling fingers tracing the charred edges of the photo. Four grinning faces stared at him from the photo. A twenty-two year old Mari smirking with her knuckles digging into his sixteen-year-old head. His mother and father stood on either side fond smiles as they tried to straighten their children out for the photo. Yuuri gave a strained smile, his fingers tracing their smiles.

"Okaasan, otousan. Mari nee-chan...What the hell am I doing?" Yuuri whispered, his voice hitching.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> =3+ hi everyone, thanks for sticking around. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please drop some kudos and a comment if you'd like.  
> In terms of my updating, from now on I'm hoping to update at least once a week, possibly more when I'm not drowning in a sea of assessments and homework


	5. Bloody Crescents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first raid of their relationships goes off without a hitch, that is, until they get back to the station. Yuuri is still pretty clueless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI EVERYONE! Just letting you know that today's my first day of school so this will be my last consecutive day update. It's freezing. Well, relatively, it doesn't snow where I live but it's still cold to me. So EXCITING NEWS: Some of you might've noticed that I changed the from 10 chapters to "?" to 20, I realised that I simply wouldn't be able to finish this in ten chapters so I'm making it twenty because I think I could comfortably finish. Yes, there will probably be an ending, I'm sorry. I've already written a lot of plot so...yeah. Well, I hope you enjoy the new update. It's long than usual to make up for how short yesterday's was (sorry about that). HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!

> **It's obvious that you know it's killing me**  
>  **My odds are low for betting on you now**
> 
> **Wildcard**
> 
> **-Mickey Valen**

 

* * *

"Good morning," Yuuri smiled politely at a few officers leaving the station as he came in.

"Katsuki! Where on earth have you been all morning?"

"Ah, sorry captain, I slept in." Yuuri stuttered, shifting from foot to foot.

"And Chulanont didn't wake you up?"

"I guess not." He sighed, looking at his watch.

"Get your ass in room five. Nikiforov and co. are waiting for you."

Yuuri hurried down the corridor narrowly dodging a few people in his haste.

"G...good morning, Yuuri?" Yuuko called, watching as the boy weaved down the corridor in a panic.

Yuuri shouted a hurried, "Good morning Yuuko!" as he passed.

He opened the door to meeting room 5, greeted by a surprising amount of people gathered around the table in the centre, papers spread across its surface. Phichit gesturing at different pictures, waving his hands animatedly.

"Ah, good morning, Yuuri.," A voice purred from behind him, a gentle hand rested on his shoulder.

Yuuri let out a small squeak of surprise, whipping around to face the source of the voice. His eyes were immediately met with bright blue orbs accompanied by a heart-shaped smile. 

"Good morning...Viktor." 

The raven haired man's eyes ran down the older man's figure, choosing to stare at his feet instead, as a blush rose to his cheeks. (Fuck Viktor and his suits with suspenders and fucking...too hot to be legal.)

"You ready for the raid, Yuuri?" Viktor asked, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"You bet," Yuuri replied, smiling firmly.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri relaxed against his chair, eyes flickering between the screen in front of him and the Russian slumped on the desk next to him.

"This is so boring," Viktor whined.

"You know you can watch with me, right?" Yuuri sighed, gesturing at the screen, displaying a black-clad officer tackling a perp running through the house.

"Viktor. Look. They're chasing people." Yuuri pushed Viktor's shoulder gently, pulling one ear out of his headphones.

"But we're not actually there." He whined, turning his head to face the other man.

"Do you want to get shot at that badly?" Yuuri sighed as he rests his chin in his hand.

"Tell me if they get anyone interesting."

"There's an old guy." Yuuri laughed, "truly fascinating."

 

Viktor stood abruptly, pushing the back doors of the van open and hopping down onto the street.

"H..Hey! Viktor, where are you going? You're supposed to be staying in the truck!" Yuuri cried out, awkwardly tugging his headphones off and scrambling after the other man.

Two policemen clad in black dragged a stoic older man out of the building as Viktor stood aside, watching passively.

(Italics are in Italian)

"Viktor fucking Nikiforov!" The man hissed, momentarily yanking free of his captor's grips.

" _Signore Rossi_." Viktor sighed as the man tripped and collapsed at his feet.

" _You're a dead man walking, bastard Nikiforov_!" He spat, struggling as Viktor reached out and grabbed him by the chin.

" _You'd best be watching your own back, you old geezer_." Viktor snarled, releasing the man's chin.

" _You'll pay! The mistress will have that over-confident head of yours_!" The Italian man roared, struggling as he was dragged away.

"Viktor." Yuuri hissed, arms crossed firmly across his chest.

"Ah, sorry Y...Yuuri, that was a little out of line." Viktor stuttered, shooting the peeved detective an apologetic smile.

"Whatever. What did he say? Sounded pretty pissed off." Yuuri grumbled, glancing a Celestino who watched them curiously from a metre and a half away.

"He said I was a dead man walking," Viktor murmured thoughtfully, opening his mouth to continue," and that his mistress would have my head."

"Great. Threats. You think they will act on it?"

"They nearly succeeded last time. Unless Heaven forbids they never try again." Viktor muttered, a small smirk on his face.

"Get back in the van, Nikiforov." Celestino ordered, jerking his thumb in the direction of the van.

"Sure, captain." He replied, nodding at Yuuri before ambling over to the van.

"Is something up, cap?" Yuuri asked, shoving his freezing fingers further into his pockets.

"I just wanted to see if Nikiforov would truthfully translate his exchange with that man."

Yuuri blinked. It hadn't even occurred to him that Viktor might lie about the contents of their exchange. He was getting soft.

"Did he?" 

"No, he practically translated word for word. He cut out a few expletives though."

Yuuri let out a breathy chuckle. Of course, he did...

 

* * *

 

"So, Mr Rossi, anything you'll be willing to tell us? We might be able to cut you a deal with the DA."

"You shouldn't trust that man." The man's Italian accent showing.

"Excuse me?"

"Viktor. Viktor Nikiforov."

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. Now one criminal was telling him not to trust another. 

"That bastard, the moment he turned sixteen he started whoring himself out to the mafia."

Yuuri replied with a shocked silence as sweat started to bead on his forehead.

"A character like that has no morals. Can't be trusted under any circumstances." Rossi continued.

 

On the other side of the glass, Viktor had frozen. It was hard to tell if his body had been set alight or his limbs were frozen so hard he couldn't move them. His nails dug into his palms, carving bloody crescents into his pale hands, the blood dripping slowly onto the ground.

 

"He wheedled his way into the Bratva. Who knows how he got his hands on so much power, that brat."

Yuuri remained silent, his hands held in tight fists under the table.

"The whore will push you aside as soon as he's has what he needs."

"We don't-"

"Don't tell me detective. Did he get on his knees for you already?" Rossi sneered, a smirk spreading across his face.

"That'll be enough." Yuuri snapped, slapping a hand down on the table. 

The man flinched in shock at the sudden action, his grin wiped off his face for a split second before returning with even greater smugness. Yuuri heard the slam of a door and the sound of someone yelling echo in the hall outside. Shit. Celestino was going to have HIS head.

"If that's all you've got to say then we're done here." Yuuri grunted, shoving his paper together in some resemblance of order.

Yuuri scribbled down a few notes on his pad, flipping absently through the previous pages to where Viktor's notes mingled with his. 

"He can be a nasty piece of work. Be careful, Yuuri." Wrote the first line.

"My last warning, detective, be careful. Don't come crying when that pretty face stabs you in the back."

"If that's all you have to say," Yuuri sighed, leaning closer, "I look forward to seeing your face on the bad side of a set of bars." Yuuri hissed under his breath.

 

Yuuri closed the door behind him, letting out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding as the door clicked shut.

"Y...Yuuri?" Phichit asked, hands held firmly behind his back.

"O...oh Phichit?" Thought you'd still be in with Celestino?"

"Ah, nah. You're done, so we're done." Phichit shifted from foot to foot.

"Phich are you oka-"

"Yuuri~!" Viktor called from down the corridor, sporting his usual grin and a coffee in hand, a more sober looking Leo in tow behind him.

"I've gotta do something! I'll be back!" Phichit stammered before taking off done the corridor, hands thrust into his pockets.

"That was weird..." Yuuri murmured, glancing at Viktor, "wait, weren't you watching the interrogation?"

Viktor froze momentarily, fingers wrapping more tightly around his coffee cup, "Cialdini kicked me out as soon as soon as Rossi started talking about me," he replied, smiling and waving Yuuri off. 

Yuuri squinted, both of Viktor's hands had been bandaged. What the hell was going on? When did Viktor get injured?

"Viktor what happ-"

"Ah, Phichit is back. If you don't mind, I have something to show you all." Viktor interrupted, walking away.

Phichit and Leo shared a look. Yuuri wasn't blind.

 

* * *

 

5 minutes earlier.

Phichit squinted in the dark, was he imagining there was something dripping onto the ground and Viktor, was he shaking? 

Phichit stepped closer. The scarlet contrasted perfectly against the Russian's pale, alabaster skin.

"Viktor!?" Phichit shrieked, grabbing his wrists.

He didn't budge, his eyes not shifting from the men on the other side of the mirror.

"Fuck! Viktor, snap out of it!" 

By now he had gotten the attention of Leo and Celestino who stepped over to see what the hell was happening.

"Oh my god..." Leo muttered when he got close enough to see what was happening.

"Grab three clean towel from the medical room!" Celestino barked.

Leo sprinted from the room yelling "I'm on it!" As the door slammed behind him.

"Fuck. What the fuck. Fuck, there's so much blood." Phichit muttered under his breath as he peeled Viktor's hands apart.

"O...Oh Phichit?" Viktor stammered, glancing around the room in confusion.

"Are fucking awake now Nikiforov?" Phichit hissed.

"What happened? Oh." Viktor looked down at his own bloody hands with a grimace.

"Yeah. Oh. What the hell were you thinking?" Phichit sighed as Leo came flying back into the room, quickly wrapping the man's hands in the towels.

"The third towel captain?" Leo asked, gingerly passing one of Viktor's bundled hands to Phichit.

"On the floor, I'll clean up here. Phichit, you wait outside and distract Yuuri. Leo, go get Nikiforov bandaged up." Celestino ordered, plucking the fresh towel from Leo's hand as they slowly dragged Viktor out of the room.

Phichit leant against the wall beside the door.

"You'll be okay patching Nikiforov up?"

"Yeah." Leo replied, pulling Viktor along beside him.

Phichit looked down at his hands.

"Shit." He hissed as he scrubbed at his hands, "they're covered in blood. Did not think this through. Did not think this through."

 

Leo sat Viktor down on a stool before gently peeling off the towels and tossing them into a bin nearby. He turned to the cupboard, flipping open a few compartments before he found the bandages tucked neatly to a side. He turned and kneeled in front of the other man, quickly wiping his fingers and wrist of the residue blood. Wouldn't want to get any on his sleeve. Leo reached out and undid the buttons on his left cuff, pushing up his sleeve as Viktor went to protest.

"Oh you don't have to..." Viktor muttered, freezing as Leo rolled his sleeve up.

Leo stared at the man's wrist, covered in horizontal scars that ran cleanly from one side of his wrist to the other. They were faded, but they were definitely there.

"P...please don't tell Yuuri." Viktor choked.

"Viktor..." Leo started, swallowing a lump in his throat.

"Seriously. They're from ages ago. Please, promise me you won't tell Yuuri."

"Alright, but in exchange, I want to see your other arm. Anywhere else you've been cutting?" Leo asked calmly.

Viktor let out a short sigh before shaking his head, "there's nothing else on the other arm, or anywhere else for that matter."

"I'm still checking." Leo sighed, deftly bandaging his left hand.

 

* * *

 

Later that night Phichit and Yuuri drove Viktor back to the safe-house in an awkward silence. 

"Alright, we're here. Goodnight Nikiforov." Phichit, mumbled, reprogramming the GPS to his and Yuuri's apartment.

"Thanks for the ride." Viktor said as he opened the door and stepped into the cold, slamming the door behind him and walking off down the footpath.

"Phich keep the engine running. I'll be right back." Yuuri said, jumping out of the car.

"What? Yuuri? Ok then..." Phichit asked, watching as his friend jogged after the Russian who had turned around.

"V...Viktor." Yuuri pulled his thin spray jacket closer around his frame.

"Yes, Yuuri."

"L...Let me walk you to your door." Yuuri stuttered, fighting a shiver as another gust of the wind blew. 

"Yuuri you're freezing." Viktor sighed, untying his scarf from around his neck and wrapping it meticulously around the younger man's neck.

"Oh, thanks." Yuuri murmured, burying his nose in the still warm scarf.

Viktor continued walking. Couldn't Phichit have just parallel parked right outside the house?

"Viktor?"

"Mm."

"What happened to your hands."

"Oh I...hurt them."

"No shit Viktor." Yuuri grumbled, increasing his pace a little to catch up to the man who had walked ahead.

"I..." Viktor started.

"The things Rossi said..." Yuuri started, looking towards Viktor almost as if to get confirmation to continue.

"Yes. I sucked some dicks to get to where I am. Why is everyone so peeved?" Viktor snapped, shoving his hands in his pockets, walking even faster.

"I don't care about that Viktor. OW!" Yuuri stumbled back after running face first into Viktor's back.

"Why'd you stop so suddenly?" Yuuri groaned, clutching his nose.

Viktor whipped around, "then why did you ask Yuuri?" indignation lacing the question.

"I just wanted to know...why. No one would do that to themselves willingly."

"My mother died."

"Oh."

"I had no way to support myself. My guardian couldn't either."

Yuuri stared at his feet.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up." He murmured.

"It's alright. It's in the past." Viktor sighed, coming to a stop at the base of the stairs leading to his door.

"I'm still sorry." Yuuri sighed, wringing his frozen hands together.

"Seriously, don't be." Viktor, peeled off his gloves, grabbing Yuuri's hands and tugging the gloves onto the smaller hands.

"Viktor, the car is literally right over there." Yuuri sulked, not bothering to struggle.

"You're turning blue, Yuuri."

"I am?" Yuuri squeaked, gloved hands reaching up to slap his own cheeks.

"No, idiot." Viktor chuckled, reaching out and brushing a stray lock away from Yuuri's eyes.

"Ugh. I hate you." Yuuri grumbled, batting his hand away.

"You're a good man, Yuuri. A kind man." Viktor sighed, resting a hand on Yuuri's shoulder.

"Sure." Yuuri muttered, staring down at his fingers awkwardly waggling in gloves a little too big for him.

"Ugh. You cannot take a compliment Yuuri. You're a police officer, if you could see yourself!" Viktor exclaimed, brushing snow off the smaller man's shoulders.

Yuuri opened his mouth to say something before he interrupted by the loud honking of a car, causing both of them to jump, then burst out laughing.

"Well, Yuuri, Phichit's getting impatient. You'd better hurry."

"Ah, yeah. Let me give you your scarf back-"

"No, no, keep it. You can give it back to me tomorrow morning." Viktor insisted, hand deftly wrapping the scarf more tightly around Yuuri.

"Ah, ok. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow..."

For a moment they stared in awkward silence, a silence loudly broken by Phichit honking, three at a time, with no indication of stopping anytime soon. Yuuri jumped, turning to sprint back to the car before someone called the police on them for 'disturbing the peace'.

"Bye!" He yelled, turning back to wave for a moment, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.

"B...bye." Viktor mumbled, letting his hand slowly drop back to his side. 

 

* * *

 

Viktor had been working at the precinct for a little over three weeks, just over two since the first raid. Whenever he was outside of a locked interrogation room or meeting room he was handcuffed, it wasn't ideal but it was a necessary precaution. Several raids had occurred since the first, all very much successful.

 

"There's a banquet next week. An old friend of mine will be there." Viktor started, tapping rapidly onto the laptop.

"Why do you need this old friend?" Celestino grumbled, fiddling with a ring on his finger.

"She has information I wouldn't be able to get my hands on otherwise."

"How are you sure she'll be there."

"She's waiting for me." Viktor sighed, spinning the laptop around to show them the venue.

"An old member of your team?" Leo leant in closer.

"How can we be so sure you're not just going to take off with her?" Yuuri chuckled, earning a glare from the captain.

"I'm asking you to take her into protective custody as well." 

"Wait a second. Isn't that Jean-Jacque Leroy's mansion?" Yuuri asked, opening one of the pictures in full screen.

"Yes, it's a fundraiser of sorts. The up himself ass throws one every year. At least he's doing good."

"And there are mafia on the guest list?" Celestino asked, seemingly genuinely curious now.

"Yes. It's quite the extraordinary event. It's a masquerade ball. Everyone wears masks and pretend, that for one night, they don't recognise anyone else." Viktor chuckled.

"And you're on the guest list?" Yuuri mumbled, biting his lip.

"What guest list aren't I on?" Viktor replied with a smug smile.

"You want us to put another person under protective custody." Celestino sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"If she's willing." Viktor shrugged.

"How safe will this be?" 

"No one should be shooting anybody, so very safe."

"That's a good start."

"So, Yuuri, how do you feel about going back under cover?" Celestino asked, twirling his pen between a few fingers.

"Ugh. Why me!" Yuuri whined, rolling his eyes.

"No one is more qualified than you, Yuuri, believe it or not." Celestino grumbled, taking the opportunity to roll his eyes.

 

* * *

 

"Say, Phichit, does Yuuri have a lot of experience in the field?"

"Why? Are you worried about getting stuck with him?" Phichit chuckled, putting his papers aside to stare at the Russian.

"Well not really. I just want to know how much I can rely on him."

"If I had to be honest with you, I don't know," Phichit sighed, half standing up to glance at Yuuri.

"You don't?"

"We didn't see him for five years after he graduated high school. He got his degree in a college pretty far away, and...he doesn't like talking about what he did. I know he worked in the DEA, if you're really curious you'll have to ask the captain."

"I see..."

"Well, you're not going to be armed for the banquet anyway. I think you're armed enough as you are.

Viktor let out a short laugh before turning his attention to Yuuri. The man appeared to be talking to two new faces and Leo through their plan for next Saturday. Easy. Get in, find Mila, get the hell out and hopes no one notices. He strode over, taking position beside Yuuri and yanking a nearby stool to sit on.

"How kind of you to join us, Viktor." Yuuri sighed, pausing his presentation.

"Please, continue, I just wandered over here because I was bored." Viktor looked up and smiled at the new faces.

"M...Minami?! You're back already, it's only been a few weeks!" Viktor chimed, grinning at the flustered boy.

"Ah yeah. It was just a flesh wound like you said. Doc said that I just shouldn't push myself is all."

"And not get shot again?" Phichit added, slapping the smaller boy gently on the shoulder, causing him to jump from behind.

"Phichit!" Yuuri whined, flicking his partner's forehead.

"HEADSHOT!" Viktor called out, grinning childishly.

"Y...you'll get used to them," Leo reassured to the straight-haired brunette next to him.

"Ah, Viktor, this is Guang Hong Ji. Guang Hong, this is the Precinct Idiot." Yuuri laughs.

"I'm Viktor Nikiforov, nice to meet you. I would prefer P.I., makes me sound like a private investigator." 

"I...see..." 

"I look forward to working with you."

Minami shrugged,"aren't you getting comfortable now, Nikiforov?"

"This is about as close to home as I'm getting." He laughed, glancing down at Yuuri next to him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked that update. I died inside a little when I wrote that scene when Yuuri walked Viktor to his door. Please drop some kudos and a comment if you'd like! As always, thanks for tagging along <333 By the way tags will change as the fic continues and I promise, precious Yurio comes in pretty soon!


	6. The Man behind the Mask

I see swimming pools and living rooms and aeroplanes

I see a little house on the hill and children's names

 

Fools

-Troye Sivan

 

* * *

 

"Shit, dis kid is young! Dass such a Russian athrete ting, right?" Phichit spluttered, stuffing another handful of popcorn into his mouth.

Viktor, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, shot him a quizzical look, "no, he's not really very young for a figure skater."

Yuuri hummed in agreement, before he remarked, "Plisetsky isn't even technically Russian, you know? He was born right here in the States. He was naturalised as a Russian later."

"No waaaay!" Phichit exclaimed, reaching into Yuuri's lap for another hand-full of popcorn.

Viktor froze, his hands suddenly feeling a little clammy as he rubbed them together.

"You sure know a lot about someone who just debuted, Yuuri." Viktor prodded, hands reaching for popcorn at the same time as Phichit.

"Oh, I keep up with the Juniors as well. I swear to god, Phichit, if you keep dropping popcorn all over me...this is exactly why I hate sitting in the middle of the couch!" Yuuri grumbled, shoving the popcorn into Phichit's lap.

"Oi Yuuri, no fair! I wanted popcorn too!" Viktor whined.

"No! Popcorn is mine! You two were the ones that chose to watch goddamn ice skating!" Phichit hissed, wrapping his arms around the popcorn protectively.

"It's Worlds!" Yuuri and Viktor growled simultaneously, turning to glare daggers at Phichit.

 

Five minutes later the three men were curled up on the couch, faces washed white by the flickering lights of the television in the dark room, each now with their own packet of popcorn and a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade (courtesy of Phichit).

 

* * *

 

Yuuri suppressed a yawn, perhaps staying up had been a bad idea. Phichit had been too tired to drive back so they'd ended up sleeping over at the safe house, Viktor taking the couch and the other two taking the bed.

"Katsuki?"

"Huh? What, yeah?" Yuuri mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Wake up. You're at work already." Celestino grumbled from behind him.

"S...sorry!" Yuuri stuttered, sitting straighter.

"Meet me in my office in five."

"Oh, ok. I'll grab Vikt-"

"Without the Russian."

"Oh."

 

Exactly five minutes later Yuuri paused outside Celestino's office, rapping his fingers gently against the door.

"Come in," Celestino called from inside.

Yuuri let himself in, closing the door firmly after himself.

"You wanted to speak to me alone?"

"Yes. We finally managed to trace where Viktor was coming from when he arrived back in Detroit."

"Didn't he tell us?" Yuuri asked, settling into the couch opposite the captain's desk.

"Not the full story. He said he was flying in from St. Petersburg, which technically isn't a lie." 

"Oh?"

"He was coming from a city called Chelyabinsk. Still in Russia though. Gang business you think?"

For a moment Yuuri froze, then started choking on the sip of coffee he had just drunk, fighting the need to laugh desperately.

"I honestly can't tell if you're dying or laughing." Celestino chuckled, tossing the tissue box at him.

"I can't laugh while drinking coffee." Yuuri spluttered, grimacing.

"You tried. So, what was so funny?"

"Chelyabinsk was the host city for the Russian Figure Skating Championships this year. Viktor's a big fan."

"Of figure skating?"

"Yeah."

"Oh," Celestino mumbled, pursing his lips.

"Is that all you called me here to talk about?" Yuuri asked, dabbing a tissue to his lips.

"Well no, actually I've had the chance to review the CCTV from the airport as well. The quality is terrible but at least it's something."

"Find anything interesting?"

"The look on his face when he sees the 'bomb' is priceless. It was like prank reaction gold."

 

* * *

 

"So, how do I look?" Yuuri asked, tugging on his sleeve and staring at the ground at Viktor's feet.

"Look at me, Yuuri." Viktor sighed, taking a step closer.

Yuuri tried his best not to drag his eyes up the other man's figure, but the fact that he was standing there practically naked except for a half-buttoned shirt, tie hanging loosely over his shoulders, and his underwear was making this very very, hard.

"You should burn that tie," Viktor muttered, pressing a finger to his lips as if in deep thought.

"E...excuse me?"

"You need something that brings out your eyes!" The man cried, a mischievous spark igniting in his eyes.

"What is there to bring out?" Yuuri grumbled, tugging on the end of his tie, "is my tie really that bad?"

"You asked me to help you get dressed. I do not need this negativity." Viktor sighed, pursuing his lips once again.

"Okay then, what do you want me to do." Yuuri started tugging his tie off.

"I can burn it, right?"

"Viktor, no." Yuuri chided.

"Aww...but," Viktor whined.

"No." Yuuri sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Is everything alright here?" Phichit asked, poking his head in as Yuuri whipped off his tie.

"Oooooook then. I um...Am I interrupting something?" Phichit muttered, staring open-mouthed at his best friend.

Yuuri tossed the tie on Viktor's bed, an eyebrow raised at Phichit who just seemed to be staring, eyes switching between the half dressed Russian and his best friend.

"What are you staring at?" He grumbled, crossing his arms loosely.

"You look good, Yuuri. If Viktor was wearing pants, I think you would totally look the part." Phichit chuckled, leaning against the door frame.

"Really?" 

"Here, wear this, Yuuri." Viktor tossed Yuuri a tie from his wardrobe.

"O...okay."

Phichit crossed the room to stand beside Viktor.

"Yuuri will look great, whatever he wears," Viktor whispered, earning a little shocked expression from the Thai man beside him, "It's all a confidence game. Thanks for playing, Phichit. I know he can do it, sometimes he just needs a little push."

"What are you two whispering about?" Yuuri scowled, turning around and making his best impression of a smirk.

Might as well start getting into his role now.

"You look great, man." Phichit chirped, clapping excitedly.

Viktor nodded silently, a small smile on his lips.

"Alright, the two of you get out of my room. Let me finish getting changed, I might need something better if I don't want to look like Yuuri's ugly wingman." Viktor smiled, already pushing a snickering Phichit towards the door.

Yuuri simply grinned and followed Phichit out.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri sucked in a deep breath, hands clenched at his sides.

"You ready?" Yuuri asked, placing a hand on Viktor's shoulder.

"Whenever you are."

Viktor and Yuuri stepped into the golden light of the ballroom, Yuuri's eyes instinctively canvassing their surroundings. Escape routes, the number of guards, the number of guests, how friendly are the guests, how old or frail they are, how many windows could he jump through, what floor was this ballroom even on...

"Yuuri." Viktor sighed, rolling his eyes.

"What?"

"You're scowling so hard you're gonna pop a vein. Don't overthink it. It's extremely unlikely we're going to need an escape route-"

"There's still a chance." Yuuri snapped back, crossing his arms and taking a step further into the light.

"Yuuri."

"What?" Yuuri grumbled. 

"You look beautiful. Please, try to enjoy the night a little." Viktor murmured, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from Yuuri's face, bringing out a blush under his mask.

"Don't forget why we're here, Viktor." Yuuri sighed, hesitantly turning away from the other man's touch. 

"I know," Viktor replied solemnly.

"We're finding Mila then getting out of here as quickly as possible." 

"Yes, of course. And Yuuri, remember if someone asks you for your name, it's not Yuuri Katsuki."

"Who's Yuuri Katsuki?" Yuuri asked, a small smile on his lips.

"Good." Viktor patted him on the shoulder.

"Have you got your comms in?" Yuuri asked, leaning in and adjusting Viktor's tie slightly.

"Yep."

"Alright, let's roll."

 

Yuuri and Viktor approached the crowd of people dancing and socialising. The formal dresses and elegant tuxedos which filled the room gave the whole party an air of importance, importance and lots of money. Multiple times people stopped them in their tracks to say hello, most not bothering to give Yuuri more than a polite smile reserved for a quiet stranger. He smiled back politely when Viktor nudged his side, urging him to give some sort of reaction. As the music changed Viktor paused, pursing his lips, turned to face Yuuri.

"Will you give me the honour of dancing with you?" Viktor purred, offering a hand towards Yuuri.

Yuuri sighed taking his hand, "Viktor, is this really necessary?" He asked, clasping his hands with Viktor's and falling easily into the steady rhythm.

"If we keep walking around people are going to keep greeting me and honestly I just want some time alone." Viktor sighed, squeezing Yuuri's hand gently as their bodies moved in tandem.

"Being alone in a room full of people while dancing with someone else, how contradictory," Yuuri remarked, eyes meeting Viktor's.

"You're not like the other people in the room, Yuuri." Viktor smiled, the twinkle in his eye hidden by the shadow of his mask.

Yuuri laughed, a pure, gentle sound, "you mean, I'm a cop surrounded by could be criminals and aristocrats?" Yuuri whispers in reply.

 

Viktor faltered momentarily as the song ended and a slower song replaced it. Yuuri used the pause to pull Viktor closer, pressing his forehead against the other man's shoulder.

"You know my aunt would really love to go to something like this. Having all the numbers of the most eligible bachelors in town." Yuuri murmured.

"Really? I can get her an invitation if she really wants."

"Sure, I'll ask her about it. Are you paying attention at all?" Yuuri asked, voice muffled in Viktor's shoulder.

"A little." He replied playfully, earning a little scoff.

"There can't be that many people here," Yuuri whispered back.

"She shouldn't be that hard to spot, with that red hair of hers and all." Viktor remarked, his step suddenly faltering.

"Viktor?"

"Found her."

"Where?" Yuuri asked, breaking away from the other man to look around.

"On the opposite side of the room." Viktor murmured, motioning towards the far end of the ballroom.

"Let's go then." Yuuri started to walk in the direction Viktor had gestured, a look of determination in his eyes.

"No, Yuuri." Viktor hissed, pulling Yuuri back by the wrist with surprising force.

"What?"

"I'll go talk to her, she might get spooked if you're with me. Go to the bar and grab yourself a drink or something." Viktor whispered, pulling Yuuri towards the bar.

"Are you serious? I'm not drinking, I'm a terrible drunk..." Yuuri whined.

"I know that all too well," Viktor muttered under his breath.

"What was that? I didn't hear you." 

"Ah, it's nothing. Stay here and keep your comms in. I'll be back."

"Right," Yuuri affirmed, watching as the man weaved back into the crowd, glimmers of his shiny hair dwindling until Yuuri could no longer see him.

He trudged over to the bar and found himself a quiet corner from which he could observe the proceedings of the night, asking the bartender for a glass of plain water and receiving a look of something between confusion and understanding. Yuuri grimaced for a second as Viktor's comm sprung to life, the screeching quickly replaced by the staticky sound of the ballroom's background noise.

 

(Italics are in Russian)

Viktor reached out and tapped the fiery-haired woman on the shoulder.

"Mila." He murmured as the woman turned around, her eyes blown wide in surprise.

"Vitya _? Is it really you?_ " She choked, enveloping the man in a hug.

" _Not here, Mila. Let's take this somewhere else_." Viktor replied, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her towards one of the dimly lit corridors branching off from the ballroom. 

He vaguely heard Phichit grumble, "where's our Russian translator?"

Mila took the first room she found, knocking before entering, ushering Viktor in and locking the door behind him.

"Vitya _, I'm so glad to see you. I had no idea whether you were alive or in hiding or what. There's also rumours the police have you_!" Mila exclaimed, crossing the room to look out the window.

" _Do you have the transcripts I asked for_?" Viktor asked, choosing to remain rooted where he was.

" _Yes, here. Take it_." She pulled a small USB key out of her pocket and tossed it to him.

After a small silence, Viktor spoke, " _Mila...I'm working with the police_."

" _You're joking right_?"

" _They're protecting me under the witness protection program_!"

" _HAH! Witness protection? Is this a joke. How long do you think you'll survive_?" Mila scoffed, laughing coldly.

" _You can come with me, Mila. You'll be safe_."  

" _How long will that safety last_ Vitya?" She asked, her tone sober.

" _As long as we'll need it to_."

" _You and I both know that's bullshit_."

" _Goddamnit, Mila. I'm doing this for you and Georgi_!" Viktor hissed.

" _Georgi is dead_." Mila hissed.

" _What_?!" Viktor stumbled towards the woman.

" _Anya was one of them. I guessed it. Georgi saved my ass, I escaped with my life by the skin of my teeth_."

 

Phichit shuffled uncomfortably beside the translator.

"Georgi is dead." The translator murmured, eyes staring at he 

"Who's Georgi?" Celestino sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Beats me!"

"Anya was one of them. I escaped by the skin of my teeth." The translator continued, shrugging.

"Who the hell is Anya?" Phichit and Celestino grumbled at the same time. 

 

" _Georgi is dead_?" Viktor muttered, leaning against the wall.

"Yes," Mila replied.

"Fuck."

" _But maybe it's for the best,_ Vitya _. You know what Yakov says about secrets. The only good secret is one that is buried along with_ the people _that know it_."

" _Don't give me Yakov's sentimental bullshit. Mila, what are you doing_?" Viktor asked, voice quavering.

" _We both know how this is going to end,_ Vitya."

 

"We both know how this is going to end, Viktor."

Phichit paled at the morbid statement.

"Phichit, what's happening?" Yuuri asked.

 

"Mila put the gun down." Viktor barked.

 

"Holy shit the woman's got a gun. Yuuri, do something!" Phichit choked.

"I'm on it. Fuck! Where are they hiding? Viktor? Viktor where are you?" Yuuri hissed into his mic as he leapt from his bar stool, running through the empty hallways and throwing opening any door he could find.

 

"Vitya _, the most beautiful, rare Fairy Bluebells grow on the edges of mountains in the Swiss alps_." 

 

"Viktor, the most beautiful...fairy Bluebells grow on the mountainsides of the Swiss alps." The translator continued, eyebrows furrowed.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Celestino hissed.

"Hell if I know! Yuuri? Have you found them yet?" Phichit asked, looking around the van at the men gathered around the computer.

"No, I'm working on it. They didn't go very far." Yuuri's voice crackled through the comms.

 

"Vitya _, this is for the best_."

" _We can figure something out!_  Please, Mila! Sto-"

"Vitya, I'm sorr-" 

 

The sound of a gunshot crackled through the tiny speakers on the computer casting an eerie silence over the van before everyone was once again bustled into action.

"Was that a fucking gunshot?" Celestino asked, grabbing the translators shoulders.

"The sound of a gun firing is the same in every language, captain." The translator replied, lips pulled into a tight line.

"Yuuri?" 

"What?" Yuuri huffed, sounding as if he were running.

"Did you-"

"Yes, I heard the gunshot and I'm outside in the freaking corridor. It's c...close I'm almost there." 

 

Yuuri sprinted down the corridor skidding to a stop every few metres to yank on a door handle.

"Goddamnit Viktor, where are you?" Yuuri hissed, as he yanked on another door handle, this one refusing to give.

"Please be okay, I thought you said no one was going to get shot tonight."

He pulled down harder, nothing. He paused for a moment, eyes flickering down each end of the hallway.

"One...Two...Three!" Yuuri rammed the door with his shoulder, he knew it would ache later.

Yuuri squinted in the darkness, gun raised, relying on the cold moonlight filtering through a window on the far side of the room.

* * *

 

I'm by your side

Swinging in the rain

Humming melodies

 

I Wouldn't Mind.

-He is We

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY EVERYONE! Thanks for reading! First week of the term is over, thankfully. From now on I'm hoping to be updating every Monday night AEDT (Australian Eastern) or Monday morning EST for those of you in the US.


	7. Drink it All Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo Everyone! Here's the new chapter, I just wanted to thank everyone's who's been reading coz I've hit over 100 subscribers! Whoo! Also, a day late, but happy birthday to Phichit!

 

 

I see quiet nights poured over ice and Tanqueray

But everything is shattering and it's my mistake

 

-Fools

Troye Sivan

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri almost thought there was no one there, but he froze, his ears tuned to the broken humming of another.

"Con una spada vorrei tagliare...quelle gole che cantano d'amore..." Viktor hummed, his head hung down over his lap.

"V...Viktor?" Yuuri stuttered, taking a stilted step towards the man.

"Vorrei serrare nel gelo le mani...che scrivono quei versi d'ardente passione..." He continued.

Yuuri fought every urge to gag and throw up as his eyes adjusted to the scene. A woman, probably Mila, laid on the floor, arms fallen at unnatural angles, a gun held limply in her hand. Yuuri's eyes flickered to the wall, the spatter of blood speckled onto the wallpaper like scarlet stars. Viktor cradled her head in his laps, his fingers slowly combing through the curly red locks, now matted with blood.

"Viktor. We need to go." Yuuri kneeled beside the man, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Questa storia che senso non ha..." Viktor continued, completely oblivious to Yuuri's words.

"Fuck. Viktor. I'm sorry, we have to go." Yuuri turned towards the door, the sounds of men yelling echoing down the hallway.

"Viktor, please! They must've heard the gunshot." Yuuri shook Viktor by the shoulders, willing the man to return to Earth, "Vitya!"

His singing stopped abruptly, Yuuri almost regretted stopping him. 

"Y...Yuuri?" Viktor stuttered.

"Thank god. We need to get out of here, some guards heard the shot."

"Oh. Yeah, let's get out of here." Viktor muttered, reaching around the woman's neck and removing her necklace.

Ever so gently, Viktor lifted the woman's head off his lap, placing it down on the soft carpet as gently as one would handle a newborn child. He stood up promptly, pocketing the necklace and walking away. Yuuri stood stunned for a moment, glancing back down, it felt terrible to leave her here in the open for someone else to find her like this, but he decided against covering her up. 

 

Viktor blinked, one moment Yuuri was holding his hand, pulling him at a break neck speed through the corridors of the mansion, and the next he was sitting curled up in a corner of the police van. He pulled Mila's necklace out of his pocket, running his fingers over the grooves of Hello Kitty's face.

 

* * *

 

 

There's a saying that goes something along the lines of: 'when you wear a mask for too long, it becomes you.' 

Yuuri watched as Viktor stepped over to the sink, his fingers gently brushing over the diamantes lining the face of the pendant, the water gently washing the dried blood off. His mouth remained pulled in a straight line, his eyes dulled in comparison to their usual vibrancy. After what felt like half an hour of the steady stream of water dribbling from the tap, Viktor shut it off tightly, lingering to stare out the window for a moment. He eventually turned, eyes meeting Yuuri's. If Yuuri hadn't known better, he would have thought Viktor was simply deep in thought, but between the cracks in his mask Yuuri could hear the broken cries.

"I need a drink." Viktor sighed, pacing over to the fridge and digging around for a moment until he pulled out a clear bottle of vodka, placing it on the table as he reached for a glass.

"Me too." Yuuri murmured pulling out a chair and watching as Viktor grabbed another glass from the rack.

In silence Viktor poured the innocuous looking liquid into the two glasses until he deemed it enough, placing the bottle back down with a heavy clunk.

"Can't get any of the good stuff here in the States, but it'll do," Viktor muttered, raising his glass.

"Aye - aye to that." Yuuri murmured, raising his glass before downing it in one go.

"Y...Yuuri...You should slow down." Viktor stuttered in surprise, watching as Yuuri spluttered and coughed, seeming to regret his impulsive decision. 

"Shut up. We both know you need this more than me." Yuuri grumbled, reaching for the bottle.

Viktor sighed, choosing to remain silent, pushing the bottle towards Yuuri as he downed his own shot, closing his eyes as the liquid burnt down his throat warming up every inch of his chilled body.

 

Phichit watched from the darkness, he supposed he was pretending to be asleep but he was more than a little scared of what might happen if he weren't paying attention. It was Yuuri after all. As much as Phichit fought the ebb of exhaustion he soon fell victim to fatigue, his eyes drifting shut over the image of the two men smashing down shots at the kitchen table.

 

"S...so you gonna tell me what the fuck s'goin on, or what?" Yuuri slurred, shakily passing the bottle to Viktor.

"I'm a fucking murderer, Yuuri," Viktor stated, wondering if despite being so shit-faced Yuuri could actually manage to hold a conversation.

Yuuri paused, staring at the other man for a while. 

"Y'know. You 'nd I, we're not so d...different."

"I'm not wasted, Yuuri." Viktor laughed mockingly.

"Am not! Listen, Vitya." Yuuri scoffed, Viktor freezing at the use of his nickname.

"I'm listening."

"I've killed people too you know," Yuuri stated, suddenly seeming much soberer than he had been a few moments ago.

"Yuuri, you're a cop." Viktor sighed, rolling his eyes at the other man.

"So what? Does that make any difference?" Yuuri asked, reaching for the neck of the bottle as Viktor pulled it out of his reach.

"I killed Sara Crispino's brother, Michele. That's why the Italians have been after me." Viktor muttered, pressing his lips to the bottle and taking another swig.

"Fuck, you're a shtupid one aren'you." Yuuri grumbled, face-palming.

"Huh, they got Mila in the end too." Viktor sighed.

"You said it yourself, she shot herself. How did they 'get' her?" Yuuri asked, making quotation marks in the air with his fingers.

Viktor stood abruptly, nearly falling over from the sudden dizziness that overtook him as he strode out of the kitchen. 

"Oi, Viktor? Where are you going?" Yuuri got up and stumbled after him, tripping over his own feet.

Viktor whipped around just fast enough to catch the dishevelled, raven-haired man who now had him pinned to the wall. 

"Vitya..." Yuuri drawled into his ear.

Viktor remained silent, plastered to the wall with his heart pounding in his ears.

"It's okay to cry, y'know." Yuuri murmured, pressing a gentle hand to Viktor's cheek. 

"I'm not crying," Viktor grumbled, eyes meeting chocolate orbs that stared right back, full of worry and sadness. 

"You don't have to lie to me, Viktor," Yuuri whispered, brushing his thumb over the wet trails tracking down Viktor's cheek.

"I'm not," Viktor replied, reaching up to touch his own cheek, flinching when he pulled back his fingers to see the wetness. "Shit."

"You're one dense motherfucker, y'know, but...it's not fair, you're beautiful when ya cry." Yuuri slurred, leaning onto the tips of his toes to bump his forehead against Viktor.

Viktor wiped hurriedly at his tears, grimacing, "Yuuri, I think you should go to bed."

"Y'know. I shot a kid, once. In Cuba." Yuuri slurred, staggering towards the bedroom.

"L...let me help you." Viktor sighed, pulling Yuuri's limp arm over his shoulder.

"I hesitated...Shoulda died that day, but it wasn my turn yet. Y'knowhat, Viktor, I'll show you the scar."

Viktor lead Yuuri into the bedroom, he hadn't been lying when he said he didn't handle alcohol that well. Viktor dragged Yuuri over to the bed, hoping Yuuri would just quit and go to bed right now. Viktor barely had a moment to breathe as he felt a firm hand pressed to his chest, a foot wrapped around his ankle, sending him flying back first into the mattress. How was it possible for someone to be so coordinated when they'd just finished stumbling down a hallway?

"Good training probably," Viktor thought to himself. 

"Here, here, I have a scar from when someone stabbed me with a table knife." Yuuri laughed bitterly, tugging his tie off and unbuttoning his shirt hastily.

Viktor watched in awe, unsure whether the blush clawing its way onto his cheeks was due to the alcohol, or the man that seemed to be casually stripping in front of him. 

"This one is from the table knife," Yuuri grumbles, twisting his body to point out the small, horizontal scar on his lower back.

"Ah, what about that one?" Viktor asked, reaching out to brush a finger against Yuuri's back, fingers tracing the small circular scar.

"Oh, yeah. The kid couldn't have been older than 16...17. I froze, he didn't even hesitate. Popped one right in me." Yuuri sighed, unable to twist around far enough to see the scar, turned around to face Viktor.

"Hey, this one's where your heart should be. Must've been nasty." Viktor murmured, head tilted to a side.

"Oh. Yeah, my heart is actually on the right side instead of the left." Yuuri replied, gesturing with his right hand.

"Wow, I didn't know that was possible. Does that mean your heart is always right?" Viktor quipped, smiling weakly, earning a scoff from the other man.

Suddenly, the raven haired man froze, eyes glued to his own reflection in a mirror against the wall.

"Yuuri?" Viktor asked, eyes searching the younger man's, emotions flashing through those brown orbs faster than Viktor could comprehend.

Viktor watched in tense silence, unsure of how to react. Gingerly, Yuuri picked up the hair brush on the bedside table, weighing it in his hand for a moment before striding across the room. Viktor flinched as Yuuri smashed the handle of the brush against the glass, the small cracks in the glass giving way as pieces fell onto the carpet under Yuuri's unrelenting strikes. Yuuri quickly tossed aside the brush, using his fingers to pick at the glass swearing as blood dripped across the remaining glass.

"I fucking hate mirrors," Yuuri choked, falling to his knees, "I hate this." He whimpered, fingers clawing across the scar running down his chest.

"Yuuri!" Viktor cried, scrambling off the bed, dropping down beside the other man, wrapping his arms around the other man's shaking shoulders.

"Yuuri? What's wrong? Please, talk to me." Viktor asked, voice wavering.

"Every time I see it, I remember..." He whimpered in reply, pressing his face into the crook of Viktor's neck.

"Shhh, it's okay, you don't need to talk about it," Viktor whispered, gently pulling him up and over to the bed.

"I'msorryi'msorryi'msorry...It's all my fault..." Yuuri muttered under his breath, not noticing as Viktor bandaged his hands tenderly.

Viktor looked up at the other man's face, now distraught with tears streaming down his face, the ugly sound of sobs filling the silence. Viktor stood to leave,"Yuuri, get some sleep. I'm sure you'll feel better tomorrow." Viktor murmured, combing a few fingers through Yuuri's hair as he helped the other man under the covers.

He turned away, freezing as he felt a warm hand entangle in his own.

"D...don't leave, Viktor. Stay, please." Yuuri cried, pulling Viktor down into the envelope of the sheets.

For a moment Viktor tensed, back turned to Yuuri's sobbing form, staring at the shattered mirror glimmering in the moonlight.

"Yuuri..." Viktor murmured, turning around to face him.

"Y...yes?" He hiccuped back, desperately trying to hold back the flood.

Viktor wrapped his arms around the other man, yanking him till the man's head was tucked under his chin.

"Everything is going to be okay," Viktor whispered, fingers combing tenderly through the other man's hair, as tears stung at his own eyes, his other hand pressed against the small of the shaking man's back to hold him closely.

Yuuri sobbed unabashedly into his chest, his fingers curled into the soft fabric as his tears soaked through the shirt.

 

* * *

 

 

Grandpa tells me that when our parents passed away my brother was 16. I was 3, so I don't really remember. He tells me my brother started spending nights out longer and longer until sometimes, he never came home at all. Sometimes he was gone for days, never leaving a message to tell us if he was okay, or when he'd be back. 

 

He wasn't home for his 17th birthday. Grandpa and I made a cake, and we waited, we prayed, we stayed up, but he never came home. He always came home with money, just enough to buy Grandpa's medicine and keep us going. He disappeared for more than a year after that. The money kept coming, where from? We had no idea. It appeared in Grandpa's bank account from different accounts every time. 

 

A few weeks after his 19th birthday, I saw my brother again. This time he picked me up from school in the middle of the day. He barely recognised me and I barely recognised, him dressed tightly in a suit, his once long silver locks cropped short.

"Oh Yurochka, you've grown so much." he whispered, pulling me close.

Who was this man? My brother? His shaky smile betrayed his tired, empty eyes. I forgot how it looked to see my brother smile, and this new brother did no justice to his old self. We drove home in silence. 

 

I'd imagined this moment for so long, so many nights spent curled up with a torch and pictures of the three of us under my bed covers. The first few weeks I missed him. The first few months gave way to anger and feelings of abandonment. Grandpa refused to talk about him around his 18th birthday. He refused to answer my questions. Was he alive? When was he coming home? I imagined my brother, stomping into the house, tossing his boots off and grumbling about how he needed a new pair because snow just kept getting in. But he would never actually buy himself a new pair, he would rather buy me toys and books. How he ruffled my hair as he passed through the living room to say hello to grandpa. He was always tired, but he always smiled for me. 

 

Yet here it was, the moment Grandpa saw him again. Grandpa was crying and screaming in Russian for him to get out of our house. I wanted to cry as my brother simply ignored grandpa, going to his room. I followed him to his room and nervously watched as he tossed his things into a suitcase. After a few minutes, he noticed me standing by the door, tears stinging my eyes.

 

"Yurochka, don't cry. Please, don't cry." He murmured, kneeling in front of me and hugging me.

"Viktor, p...please don't leave again." I choked, my delicate facade cracking as tears started pouring down my face.

"I'm sorry, Yuri."

"Please! Please, don't leave!" I wailed, burying my face in his shoulder.

"Do you want to go on an adventure Yura?" He asked, holding me at arms length, eyes drilling into mine,"You've always wanted to go somewhere right, Yuri? Come with me to Russia. You can stay with me in St. Petersburg, we won't have to be apart any longer, little brother."

"Is grandpa coming?'

He froze, eyes glued to the ground, "only if he wants to, I'll ask him now, how about that?"

I nodded dumbly, wiping my eyes on my sleeves following my brother to the living room. I sat in the stairwell to listen to their conversation without intruding.

 

"Please come with us to Russia. Yura won't agree to come unless you do." He stated, voice shaking slightly.

"Why should I?" The older man hissed, his voice shaking.

"I just want to be close to you! So I can look after both of you!"

"Close to us!? You say that after you disappear for more than a year, Vitya!"

"Please, Kolya. At least for Yuri."

"So you can't convince Yuri yourself?" The older man hissed.

"If you aren't coming I'm going to take Yuri alone. But I don't want to do that, please!"

"Taking children from their families. That's the kind of thug you are, Nikiforov." Nikolai spat, slapping Viktor.

I held my hands tightly over my ears, just begging for the whole thing to be over as the yelling continued. I had chosen to ignore the cracks forming in my family, but now, it was so hard to overlook the gaping chasm between us.

Nothing would be the same, my brother was a member of the mafia.

 

I opened my eyes, pulling my legs out of the stretch and glancing up at a clock. Now was not the time to be daydreaming, they'd be calling me up any minute now. The roar of the crowd was barely dulled by the walls around me as I took up my position behind the curtain, Otabek giving my shoulder a firm squeeze. 

"Yuri Plisetsky representing Russia!" The loudspeakers outside boomed, my cue to step out into the spotlight.

With Otabek on my right and Lillia on my left, we lifted the curtain, stepping out into the white lights of the stadium. The crowd roared as I lifted my head, donning my usual smile, a scowl, and a wave for the fans.

"The two-time consecutive Junior World Champion and two-time consecutive Junior Grand Prix Final Champion is making his Senior Debut this year, at 16 years of age." The commentator continued as I sauntered over to the rink entrance, leaning down to take my skate guards off.

"You're going to do great, Yura," Lillia said, a proud smile on her face.

"Whatever," I muttered, shoving my skate guards into Otabek's waiting hands.

Otabek, paused for a moment before he tackled me with a bear hug, nearly lifting me off the ground.

"Ugh, Beka!" I hissed, struggling pointlessly.

"Your program is beautiful, and so are you. He's watching from somewhere, you know, so go get 'em, tiger." Otabek whispered into my ear.

I pulled back, my eyes widening.

"Beka, you fucking sap," I muttered, my fingers lingering on his as I skated away towards the centre of the rink.

"Plisetsky's theme this year is Family."

"You fucking better be watching from somewhere, Viktor." I hissed as I pulled my arms into the starting position and waited for the music to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun right? Hope you enjoyed the update, same time next week of course. I'll catch y'all later then ;)


	8. Self-care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Hope you enjoy the new update!

 

 

Carefully we're placed for our destiny

You came and you took this heart and set it free

Every word you write or sing is so warm to me, so warm to me

I’m torn, I’m torn to be right where you are

 

-I Wouldn't Mind

He is We

 

* * *

 

 

 

Yuuri awoke with a start, rolling over and clutching his shoulder, a groan escaping his lips. He pulled the covers over his head, hands reaching out to pat the other side of the bed, fingers grasping at the cold emptiness.

"Wait a second!" Yuuri hissed, sitting up, fumbling on the bedside table for his glasses, which sadly, weren't there.

He looked around the room, squinting, he took a moment to process his surroundings. He noticed the broken mirror on the far side of the room, now missing most of its glass. He remembered. He looked at the ground at the base of the mirror, noticing that Viktor must've taken the time to clean up all the pieces. Yuuri reached up and placed a hand against his own bare chest, only half covered by an unbuttoned shirt, feeling his heart hammer under his fingers. 

"Oh my god, I got shit-faced drunk, freaked out, stripped, confessed my scars to him and then proceeded to smash the hell out that mirror and then...and then..." Yuuri gasped, collapsing face first into the pillow, using it to muffle his exasperated screams. 

After a while of punching the pillow with awkwardly bandaged fists, Yuuri turned his head to a side, taking in a deep breath, "fuck, this is embarrassing, I cried into his chest like a baby." 

Yuuri blinked, he hadn't noticed the folded card on the pillow beside him, a cerulean blue, reminiscent of Viktor's eyes. Yuuri reached out hesitantly, plucking the card and bringing it closer to his face and squinting at the elegant squiggles.

 

"Good Morning, Sleeping Beauty

 

I hope you slept well. You didn't do anything too stupid while you were drunk and even if you remember, no need to apologise."

 

A small smile crept onto Yuuri's face, his fingers tracing the loops and curls in the writing.

 

"If you're reading this, it's probably time to get out of bed. There's breakfast in the fridge, it's my classic hangover breakfast so it should help you feel better."

 

Yuuri squinted at the clock on the bedside table: 10.27am. Maybe it was about time to get out of bed, it was getting pretty late, why hadn't Phichit woken him up? Yuuri threw his legs out of bed, using the wall to help himself over to the door.

 

"If you listened to me and you've gotten out of bed, you're probably feeling pretty dizzy, so be careful. You tripped on your own feet last night, it was hilarious."

 

Yuuri raised an eyebrow as he shuffled into the corridor, one hand braced against the wall, the other holding the card inches from his face. Why did Viktor write him a letter if he was just going to wake up and Viktor would cook him something anyway? Yuuri nearly tripped, his feet coming into contact with something solid and very heavy in the middle of the dark hallway. Yuuri looked down, his squinting grimace quickly replaced with a look of absolute horror. At his feet, a policeman, clad in thick black body armour, lay face down on the carpet. He dropped to his knees, flipping the heavier man over with a grunt, letting out a sigh of relief. The guy was snoring away peacefully, but seem otherwise unharmed. Yuuri swallowed a lump in his throat, this was bad. He looked back down at the card.

 

"If you've actually gotten out of bed, you've probably found Smith. He's fine, he should wake up an hour after you at most."

 

Yuuri strode shakily to the kitchen, freezing as his eyes ran over the kitchen table. A dozen handguns along with their ammunition were laid out over half the table, the other half covered in an assortment of other firearms. It was hard to see any of the table under the all the black metal. Yuuri reached out and plucked his own handgun off the table, loading it with the nearest clip.

"What's missing?" Yuuri murmured, fingers grazing over the weapons, "two handguns and a bunch of ammo."

Yuuri looked back down at the letter.

 

"PS. Everyone else is in the garden shed. Didn't want the rain to get to them, it wasn't forecast to rain, but just in case.

 

V.N"

 

Yuuri walked into the living room, he felt like he had been forgetting something. His best friend lay on the couch, also snoring away. Walking over he shook his friend's shoulders, hoping to get something of a reaction out of him. 

"Wake the fuck up, Phich." Yuuri hissed, standing up as his friend let out a groan, shifting.

Yuuri walked to the door, tossing aside the letter as he went, eyes glued to a sheet of paper stuck to the front door. 

 

"Hi Yuuri, if you haven't already figured it out, I'm long gone. Don't bother trying to find me. I'll catch you around.

 

V.N"

 

Yuuri tore the note off the door, grappling with the locks on the door, throwing it open as soon as all the locks had been undone. What was he expecting? That somehow, Viktor would be there, standing right there waiting for him?

"I almost expected you to go, with a bang or something. A gun fight, a car chase. But who am I kidding, you're a strategist, this is so your style." Yuuri muttered, leaning on the doorframe and sighing.

"I need some coffee. That is what I need." He grumbled, turning around and locking the door behind himself.

Like the man himself said, he was long gone. 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"How's everyone doing?" Phichit asked, clutching a coffee in one hand, as he looked over the room full of men still groggy from the sedatives.

"Everyone is awake." Smith sighed, leaning against the wall, back of his hand pressed to his temple.

"I really can't believe it. There was a dozen of us and we didn't stand a chance." Another grumbled, gesturing around the room.

"The guy was always so flighty, but I blinked and he had me in a choke hold," Smith grunted, "we underestimated him."

Phichit left the room, joining Yuuri in the kitchen. He was whipping up a dozen coffees for the drugged men in the other room, they would appreciate it.

"How're you holding up, Yuuri?" Phichit asked, pausing next to his friend who also seemed to be cooking up soup on the side.

"Fine."

"Gee that was an evasive answer."

Yuuri slammed his chef's knife down onto the bench, turning to glare at Phichit, "what do you want me to say?" 

"The truth, Yuuri. What happened to your hand?" Phichit replied coolly, unperturbed by the outburst.

"I cut my fingers on some glass." 

"Uhuh, and you cut all your fingers on both hands."

Yuuri sighed, resting his hands on the bench top, "I was drunk, I saw the mirror in the master bedroom. I just freaked, attacked the mirror with a hair brush of all the things."

"Yuuri..."

"I'm fine, really Phichit."

"Yuuri, what happened after that?"

"Ah...I don't remember, but I fell asleep in his arms."

"Oh god, Yuuri. I..."

"Phichit, I don't know, I was just so upset, he was so calming I just couldn't help myself."

"Was that all that happened?"

"Y...yeah." Yuuri stuttered, a blush blooming across his cheek.

"Are you o-" Phichit started, shutting his mouth when Celestino stomped into the room.

"Chulanont. Katsuki." He greeted, arms crossed as he glared at the two of them.

"Captain..." The two of them replied, gulping simultaneously.

"Katsuki, a word." 

"Yes, captain. I'll catch up with you later, Phichit."

 

* * *

 

"Apart from what everyone else told me, is there anything else I should be aware of?"

"Uh...", Yuuri fished out the letter, "just a few words he left behind really."

Celestino plucked the letter from Yuuri's fingers, eyes pausing on the bandages.

"What happened to you?" He asked as he skimmed through the letter.

"O...oh I cut myself on some glass."

"Uhuh. And where's your shirt?" Celestino continued, folding the letter and passing it back to the detective.

"M...my shirt?" Yuuri muttered, looking down at his shirt.

"Yuuri, you didn't leave with blood on your shirt last night and that shirt is also at least two sizes too big for you. Plus, you reek of cheap Vodka."

Yuuri stared, down at the shirt he was wearing. How hadn't he noticed? He sniffed absently at the shirt, it smelt like Viktor.

"Captain, I..." Yuuri started, eyes glued to the ground, sweat beading on his forehead.

"Watch yourself, Yuuri. I expect you to know when you get up to your neck in shit." Celestino sighed, walking out of the room without another word.

Yuuri waited till Celestino's footsteps padded away into the kitchen, clicking across the laminate before returning to the silence of the carpet in the living room, before dropping to his knees, head in his hands.

"Oh my god I want to kill myself, not actually, I'm so embarrassed. Oh god, Celestino must think that we..." Yuuri groaned.

"Yuuri?" Phichit asked, head popping into the room.

"Oh, it's just you, Phich." Yuuri sighed, standing up and brushing himself off.

"What happened? Celestino looked a little pale on his way out."

"Oh..." Yuuri paled, he glanced across the room, spotting his shirt hanging off a hook on the bathroom door.

"Yuuri?" Phichit asked, watching as his friend stripped off his shirt and replaced it with another.

"I was wearing Viktor's shirt. Celestino pointed it out." 

"Well that's..."

"Awkward. Don't say awkward. Awkward is a massive understatement." Yuuri hissed, burying his face in his hands.

"I'm sure he assumed you didn't do anything stupid."

"I also reek of alcohol."

"You could at least try to be positive..." Phichit sighed, patting his friend on the shoulder.

"I'm positive he thinks I did something stupid."

"Okay, how's this? Let's go home, shower, get dressed. Then you can cry about how embarrassed you are."

Yuuri grimaced at his friend, somehow the way he said it was reassuring, "sounds like a plan."

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Eureka!" Yuuri cried, tossing his papers into the air, okay maybe he shouldn't have done that.

"Y...Yuuri?" Yuuko asked, reaching out a catch a few of the stray papers as they fell.

"I figured out what I was missing from the transcript."

"What transcript?"

"T..this one, the one that Vitya took with him. W...where did I put it?" Yuuri muttered, sitting up from his position on the couch, grabbing a few papers as they slid off his lap.

"Vitya?"

"Oh. Uh, I meant Viktor. Here this one." Yuuri muttered, grabbing a serviette covered in scribbles and handing it to the confused girl.

"Uh..." Yuuko started, eyes running over the illegible scribbles," .Yuuri..."

 

 

"That's all I could remember really. But it's not so bad I managed to figure it out like if you look closely it's not what's written there, it's what's not there!" Yuuri remarked, pointing enthusiastically at the scribbles.

"Yuuri," Phichit grumbled from the doorway.

"Oh, hi, hi Phichit!" Yuuri chimed, grinning at his best friend.

"How many Redbulls have you had this morning?"

"Uh..." Yuuri started, raising his hand to count on his fingers.

"You know what? Forget that I asked," Phichit grumbled, turning to Yuuko asked, "Yuuko, do you think that I could have a moment with our friend here?" 

"Sur," Yuuko replied, quietly slipping out of the room.

"Three, by the way, Phichit."

"What?"

"Three Redbulls." Yuuri repeated, holding up three fingers.

"Yuuri, it's barely 5 minutes past 9 in the morning. Oh my god, look at you, you're a mess." Phichit grumbled, tugging his fingers through the knots in Yuuri's hair.

"I figured out the transcript, Phichit. We were just missing-"

"Yuuri this is the third night in a row you've slept in Celestino's office."

"No, it's not, it's only been Tuesday and... Wednesday. Right?"

"Yuuri, it's Friday."

"Oh..."

"Let me guess you didn't even sleep last night."

"Phichit, I..."

"Yuuri, I don't want to hear it. You're my best friend, I can't just stand aside and watch you do this to your body. You're coming home tonight, you're gonna take a shower and you're gonna sleep in your bed."

Yuuri nodded dumbly, not trusting himself to say anything. 

"Doing all-nighters and downing Redbull in the morning, so you do not fall asleep, is not going to help you work on the case." Phichit murmured, placing a firm hand on Yuuri's shoulder.

"I know..."

"We all want to find Nikiforov."

"We're never going to be able to catch him." Yuuri sighed, "not like this. We probably would never have caught him in the first place if he hadn't fallen right into our laps."

"Oh Yuuri, you underestimate yourself. But please, take a break today."

"Phichit is right, Yuuri," Celestino grumbled, surprising both men.

"Captain." Yuuri and Phichit greeted.

"Sleeping on my couch is a privilege. Don't make me take it away from you like a spoilt teenager."

Yuuri rolled his eyes, "fine. Fine. Both of you stop."

"Off you go, Yuuri. If I see you back here before 3 pm, I'll have you suspended. That's an order, Katsuki."

"Celestino..." Yuuri sighed, glancing at Phichit.

"If you're not out of here in a minute, the captain'll have your head, Yuuri." Phichit chided, pushing Yuuri towards the door.

"Three o'clock, you hear me, Katsuki!" Celestino yelled as Phichit pushed him out of the office and towards the lift.

"Go to that cafe you like, Yuuri. Take a breather, seriously." Phichit whispered, punching the down button as the two of them waited outside the lifts.

"Sounds good, I guess." 

 "Here's the lift. Don't you dare come back before three. Celestino wasn't kidding when he said he'd suspend you!"

"I know, I know."

"Really, Yuuri, we don't want to hold you back from your work. We just don't want our best detective to burn himself out." Phichit grinned, pushing Yuuri into the lift as the doors slid open.

"Thanks for everything, Phichit. Sometimes I just don't know when to stop. " Yuuri muttered, scratching the back of his head.

"I'm there for a reason. Enjoy your break!" Phichit grinned as the elevator doors shut.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Yuuri let out a long sigh, his chin propped on his hand as he stared out into the busy street. He'd chosen his usual booth, crammed into the back of the cafe, not many people even knew it was there which meant it was unlikely anyone would find him or disturb him. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through the contacts for a moment before tapping on one. They said he couldn't be back at the precinct till 3 in the afternoon, but they couldn't stop him from making a few phone calls, could they?

"Hello?" A voice crackled through the speakers.

"Hey, Whitman it's Katsuki."

"Yuuri! It's been ages, please don't be so formal with me."

"Uh, well, Greg."

"Hahaha, Yuuri, what's up? I don't think we've talked since you left."

"Business, sorry. I was wondering if I could ask you for a favour."

"Yeah, shoot."

"I was wondering if you could dig up an old case file for me."

"Business, huh? You never change, Yuuri."

"Ugh. I just got booted outed of my office for working too hard. Please, now is not the time to criticise my work ethic."

"Once a workaholic, always a workaholic." Greg laughed.

"Oh my god. Stop it. I just need a goddamn file and I have to survive your torment." Yuuri chuckled, smiling as he fiddled with a serviette on the table.

"Fine, fine I'll stop teasing. What do you need?" 

"You remember that time I blew my own cover right?" Yuuri asked, tone suddenly hushed.

"Which time?" The other man asked, amusement dripping off his words.

"Oh shut up, it was only once!" Yuuri hissed, crossing his arms.

"I can hear you crossing your arms!" Greg laughed.

"Will you get it for me or not?" The raven haired man pouted, uncrossing his arms and avoiding his reflection in the store mirror.

"I'm out of town on DEA business right now, but I'll get it as soon as I get back. If you're desperate to get the files then I could outsource it to a subordinate..."

"Oh, no it's fine. How long do you think you'll take?" Yuuri pursed his lips.

"I think I can get 'em to you in a week, 10 days tops?"

"That's fine."

"Ah, I got to go, Yuuri."

"Oh, ok."

"It was nice talking, really, you should call more often. We miss you around here."

"I'll call Julian, probably."

"Good. I'll see you sometime next week. I'll call with the details later. Look after yourself, all right?"

"Right, I will. Bye." 

Yuuri placed his phone back down on the table gently, shifting his view back out the window.

"Hi, sorry, I didn't want to interrupt your phone call." A waitress said as she approached. 

"Oh, sorry, I hadn't paid for my mocha?"

"No, no, you already have. Here, this is for you." She murmured with a confident smile, lifting a mocha off her tray and placing it in front of him.

"Oh, I didn't order another one..." Yuuri started, glancing at his first mocha finished and pushed to a side.

"Oh, no. This one is on a nice gentlemen over there, he said milk chocolate mocha with a sprinkle of dark chocolate. Just the way you like it."

"Uh...short platinum blond hair with a fringe that covers one eye?" Yuuri asked, eyes slowly widening.

"Yeah. Is he your boyfriend? Because you must be one lucky guy, pal. God, he was hot." The waitress chirped, winking at him.

Yuuri stood up, eyes scanning the area of the cafe he could see from the booth fervently.

"He only stayed a moment, said he was quite busy." She said, watching curiously as Yuuri sat back down with a huff.

"Oh, and he also left this." She muttered, digging a small card out of her pocket and sliding it across the table to Yuuri.

The back of the card was plain black with a simple bar code running across the bottom, Yuuri flipped it over, unsure as to what to expect. He blinked.

"Afterhours Skating Pass: the Icehouse." It read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed ;D leave some kudos and a comment if you want. The support is greatly appreciated. <333 See you next week, same day same time!


	9. When Life Gives You Lemons...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HIYA everyone! Here's the chapter for the week. Hope you enjoy it!

High dive into frozen waves where the past comes back to life  
Fight fear for the selfish pain, it was worth it every time

 

 

 Clarity

-Zedd

 

* * *

 

Yuuri walked into the rink, the sliding doors creaking open as he stepped up to them. The rink was always closed for public skating on Fridays and Mondays.

As he walked into the reception a youth behind the desk, face buried in his iPad grumbled: "we aren't open to the public for skating today."

"I...I know...I have the after-hours pass." Yuuri muttered, holding up the card.

"Oh...you're that guy. You sounded different on the phone." He guy remarked, putting his iPad down to look at Yuuri.

"Oh, that wasn't me. My friend got this for me."

"Wow, that's one extra friend you've got there." 

Yeah, extra would be the word to describe Viktor if any, Yuuri smiled "I was wondering, what does this pass cover, exactly?"

"Your friend didn't tell you? Well, basically you can skate any day, at any time from 7 am till 11 pm for...what was it, three weeks."

Yuuri's mouth dropped open, "O...oh ok."

"You can head in, the doors are all unlocked and your gear's in the change rooms." 

Yuuri opened his mouth to ask, what gear, but the youth had already put his face back down to the glowing screen in his lap. Yuuri turned hesitantly, walking to the corridor where he knew the change rooms were. He'd been here several times before, but not when the building was completely silent except for his own footsteps. He paused outside the change rooms, peering in, it was dark and he couldn't see any light switches from here. Stepping cautiously into the darkness, Yuuri let out a squeak when the lights suddenly flickered to life.

"M...must be movement sensored..." Yuuri breathed, holding a hand over his hammering chest, he glanced around the room.

On a bench against the far wall, some clothes were folded neatly beside a pair of black skates. Yuuri walked over, this must be the gear the kid was talking about, looking closer he noticed a small white note stuck to the top of the clothes.

 

"When life gives you lemons, put on a pair of skates and stab them to pieces. A mocha might help too (must not forget the sprinkle of dark choc on top)."

 

Yuuri chuckled, "so that's what this is about." 

Yuuri unfolded the clothes, a shirt and pair of track pants. Viktor did think ahead of time thankfully, Yuuri was only wearing his usual collared shirt and trousers from work.

 

* * *

  

 FLASHBACK

 

"So, what do you when life gets you down?" Viktor asked, leaning against the wall.

"Well, I drank once and I did a few stupid things so, not drink myself silly is a start," Yuuri muttered, flopping onto his belly against the carpet.

Viktor started laughing, sliding sideways from his sitting position against the wall till he was laying curled up on the ground laughing.

"That's good, Yuuri." Viktor laughed.

Yuuri smiled, "Very funny. Do you actually want to know what I do to relax?"

"Yeah, sure, why not." Viktor murmured, turning his back to face the moonlight filtering through the window.

"Well, first of all, I go to the cafe around the corner from the precinct and grab myself a Mocha."

"With a touch of dark choc sprinkled on top?" Viktor added, smiling widely at the other man, hair glinting in the moonlight as he shifted.

"Y...yeah. Then I might go skating."

"Skating huh? Well, you really seemed to enjoy it last time we went." 

"Yeah, I enjoy having the ice to myself, it's not that often that I can," Yuuri whispered, lowering his volume as Phichit shifted on the couch on the other side of the room.

"That's true. Is he asleep?" Viktor whispered back, craning his head to look at Phichit's sleeping form.

"Y...yeah, I think so. He usually moves around in his sleep."

"Fun. How long have you known each other?"

"Since high school, ages, absolutely ages."

"That's nice." Viktor murmured, a look of sadness flittering momentarily across his expression.

"Oh, my turn to ask, how do you relax?"

"Well first, I find a nice spot like this where I can see the moonlight," Viktor whispered, fingers outstretched towards the moon.

"It is nice." Yuuri sighed, eyes drifting to the Russian's face.

"It always reminds me of what I can't have," Viktor muttered, so low Yuuri barely caught it, the sombre statement suddenly replaced with his giggles, "jokes, then I crack out the Vodka."

"God, Viktor," Yuuri grumbled affectionately, tilting his head to stare at the older man.

"Well, we know who has the higher alcohol tolerance of the both of us, unless you'd like to test it out?" Viktor chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"You know you'll win!" Yuuri hissed, slapping Viktor's shoulder.

"Ugh, you started this!" Viktor growled back, grinning wildly, sat up and lunged at the raven-haired man.

"Fight me!" Yuuri laughed back, grappling the taller man into a choke hold.

"Take this!" Viktor snapped, fingers digging into Yuuri's ribs in a tickle attack.

"Agh! HAHAHAHA! No fair! I'm ticklish!" Yuuri squealed as Viktor pinned him to the ground, unrelenting.

"Yuuri? Viktor?" A muddled Phichit asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Shit." Viktor and Yuuri both muttered, breaking apart, looking at each other then breaking into fits of laughter at Phichit's confused expression.

 FLASHBACK END

* * *

 

 

 

Yuuri sucked in a deep breath as his skates connected with the ice, the sound of metal sliding against ice pulling him out of his memories. For a moment he skated backwards, simply enjoying the feeling of the air filtering through his sweaty black locks. Yuuri skated over to the edge of the rink where he'd left his glasses, he squinted at the clock, scoffing at his own stupidity. He slid on his glasses, look back up at the clock.

"OH SHIT!" He cursed, "it's past eight fucking o'clock."

Yuuri skated to the edge of the rink, yanking on his skate guards and striding towards the change rooms.

"Phichit is gonna kill me, he's gonna kill me." He muttered, digging through his stuff to find his phone.

He pushed the power button, hissing as the bane of his existence, the low battery symbol, popped up like a big ol' 'fuck you'.

"Shit."

Yuuri ran his fingers through his hair, gripping a hand full and pulling in agitation. He sat, quickly unlacing his skates. He looked around, he couldn't wear his suit jacket over his sweaty training gear! He glanced up, he hadn't noticed before it before, a jet black hoodie with blue trimmings hung from a hook just beside his stuff. He yanked it off the hook, pulling it around his shoulders, briefly noting how well it fitted his shoulders. He tore out of the changerooms, sprinting into the reception area, he put the skates down in front of the guy behind the desk, who jumped at the sudden movement. 

"T...thanks for letting me skate..." Yuuri muttered, before turning to sprint out the front doors.

"H...hey! Don't forget your skates!"

Yuuri blinked,"my skates?" He pondered to himself.

He dashed back over to the bewildered youth, plucking the skates from his hands, muttering another apology and sprinting the hell out of there. He glanced down at his watch. 8:30. Even if he ran as fast as he could he wouldn't be able to get back to the apartment till 8:55, and that was uncomfortably close to 9 o'clock, at which point Phichit would definitely get mad. Very mad. He was twenty-four years old, why did it feel like he was racing to get home before he broke curfew?! Yuuri jogged past the bakery, the storefront lined with row after row of pastries, just the sight made his stomach growl in protest. This was terrible. He'd had a tiny late lunch and then skipped dinner, of course, he was starving! 

 

As Yuuri rounded the last corner before he got to his apartment he froze, glancing down at the bag he'd stuffed his skates into. How was he supposed to explain it to Phichit? Well...it wasn't bribery unless he was doing something to earn it, right? He pushed the thoughts of his mind as he sprinted up the steps of their building to the third floor, his muscles already screaming in protest from skating. Switching from foot to foot he juggled all his belongings in his arms, yanking his key out he fiddled it into the lock clumsily. The moment the door was unlocked he pushed it open with his foot, stepping into the welcoming warmth of their apartment.

"Phich-" Yuuri started, eyes focused on his friend who in the blink of an eye had flown from his seat in the kitchen to having his arms around Yuuri.

Yuuri immediately dropped everything he was holding and accepted the bear hug.

"Yuuri! I was so worried."

"I'm sorry..."

"Where the hell have you been? You weren't even answering your phone!" Phichit hissed, breaking the hug to hold his friend at arm's length, tears stinging his eyes. 

"I went skating...I didn't realise my phone had died." Yuuri apologised, eyes glued to the ground. 

Phichit sighed, giving Yuuri's shoulder a gentle squeeze, returned to his usual smile, "idiot, that's why you charge it! You know I was worried the moment it was 3:01 and you weren't back at the precinct."

Yuuri looked up at his best friend, his eyes no longer showing the intense worry they had been before. His stomach took this very unfortunate moment to growl as loudly as humanly possibly.

"Sorry..."

"Alright, apology accepted. Go take a shower I'll heat up some dinner for you."  Phichit chirped, pushing Yuuri towards the bathroom and giving him a gentle smack on the backside for good measure. 

Phichit waited till the sound of the bathroom door closing before fishing his phone out of his pocket and pressing a few buttons.

"Hey, Celestino."

A muffled reply was grunted through the phone.

"Yeah, Yuuri came home. He just went skating."

"Yeah, he's fine. Just a little hungry. Yes, I'll look after him." Phichit sighed, walking back into the kitchen.

"Yep, we'll see you tomorrow." Phichit terminated the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

 

Yuuri pressed a hand against the foggy mirror in the bathroom, tracing the shape of his hand onto it with his other hand. He glanced at his knuckles, still not completely healed from last week's antics. It wasn't always this easy. 

 

Yuuri had his earphones in, but he wasn't playing any music. He did this often at the doctors.

"Ms Okukawa, with all due respect we would love to help Yuuri, but if he isn't willing to talk there's not much else we'll be able to do." The doctor sighed, placing a gentle hand on Minako's shoulder.

"His parents wouldn't have wanted him to be on meds. He's only sixteen years old. Surely you can get him to open up, he's just a little shy sometimes." Minako said, her hands wrung together in her lap. 

"I'm sorry, there's really nothing else. Sometimes a little time helps."

"But it's been months already!"

Yuuri zoned out, he folded his leg, bringing a knee up and resting his chin on it. The nurse beside him murmured a few words but otherwise continued replacing the gauzes on his chest. He stared passively at the old pastel green wall. At least walls won't judge you.

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Some nerve, the piece of shit has." A woman grumbled, purple eyes glaring from her seat behind a wide wooden desk, littered with papers.

"Nerve?" 

"Oh, don't play stupid, Emil." She hissed, twirling a few black locks between her fingers.

"Okay then, Viktor Nikiforov has nerve?"

"I hadn't even contemplated that he'd work with the police." The woman snarled, twirling a pen between her tanned fingers.

"Well, maybe you should have thought this through, Sara."

"Well, maybe you should shut up." She growled, snapping the pen between her fingers like it was a twig.

Emil rolled his eyes and let out a long sigh.

"I didn't take into account that boy-toy detective of his. Thought they'd just let him rot in jail."

"A detective?" Emil asked, genuinely curious.

"Yeah, some guy he's working with."

"Viktor? Working with someone?" He laughed, "now that's hilarious."

"I want to know what he finds so fascinating about that guy. Find him."

"Sara, it's not that easy." Emil sighed, reaching up to massage his forehead.

"Our operations over there aren't that wrecked yet, are they? It can't be that hard to track down one goddamn cop." 

"It might take a-"

"Then get on with it, Nekola. I don't have you around to gossip and drink tea." 

"Yes, Miss Crispino," Emil replied, standing and bowing before letting himself out of the room.

He walked down the marble corridor for a while, left to his own thoughts and the sound of his shoes clicking against the cool stone. Nikiforov was always a lone wolf, he got shit done as the leader, but leaders are always at the top of the pack. It was a lonely place to be. He hated cops too, as far as Emil knew, for him to be willing to work with a cop, whoever this 'detective' is, he must be one impressive person.

 

* * *

  

 

 

Yuuri shrieked as Takeshi scooped his coffee off the table, taking a deep swig as he walked away.

"Nishigori!" Yuuri whined, stumbling out of his chair to chase after the older man, "this isn't funny! I'll tell Yuuko!" 

"Now that's a decent threat." Takeshi sighed, turning around and handing Yuuri's coffee back to him, "good morning by the way."

"Fuck you too, Takeshi," Yuuri grumbled, taking the coffee and crossing his arms.

"Whoo, sorry didn't realise you were so attached to your coffee."

"Shut up. What do you want?" 

"Nothing, just checking up on you. How's the new lead going?"

"And stealing my coffee?" Yuuri scoffed, "I think we might get something big. Whatever it was, Viktor seemed to be using quite the complex code to cover it up."

"Yuuri! Let's go to the cafe for our break!" Phichit screamed from further down the hallway.

"Ah..." Yuuri murmured, looking over his shoulder at the overly excited Thai, bouncing from foot to foot.

"Guess you won't be needing this," Takeshi chirped, plucking the coffee from Yuuri's hand and wheeling off around the corner.

Yuuri let out a long sigh, he was right, Yuuri could just go to the cafe and get a mocha. 

"Wait up, Phich," Yuuri called to his friend, jogging back to his desk to grab his jacket.

 

As the two men stepped through the doors the quiet ring of bells accompanied them into the otherwise quiet cafe, Phichit immediately moving for their usual table. The waitress across the cafe looked up, immediately recognising Yuuri, a small mischievous spark in her eyes and she headed back behind the counter. Yuuri settled down in their quiet booth, crammed at the back of the cafe, he pulled out his phone only to be interrupted by Phichit's insistent whining.

"Yuuuuuri! I'm sitting right here, talk to me."

Yuuri sighed, putting his phone back down, "hi, nice to see you," he grunted sarcastically.

"Hi boys!" The waitress chirped, walking over with a drink already in hand.

"H...hello," Yuuri muttered, recognising the woman as the waitress from last time he was here.

"O...Oh...I didn't know you had a boyfriend. Like, if you want me to tell the other guy to stop-"

"No no, Phichit's my best friend." Yuuri laughed, rolling his eyes as Phichit threw a confused glance at him.

"Well here's your daily free Mocha, from your secret admirer."

"W...What?" Yuuri stuttered.

"Did I forget to tell you last time? He prepaid like three weeks supply." The girl laughed, "and what could I get for you, sir?" She asked Phichit, eyes still twinkling.

Phichit ordered, waiting till the waitress was gone to glare at Yuuri conspicuously sipping at his Mocha.

"What was that the waitress was talking about? Yuuri, I thought we were open with each other about our love lives? What the hell is going on???" Phichit squealed, his tone gradually becoming more desperate.

"Okay, calm down, it's not what you think."

"Okay then, tell me what it is I'm not thinking." Phichit sighed, trying to look a little serious as he stared at Yuuri intensely.

Yuuri looked down at his Mocha, his fingers gripped tightly around the glass, turning a little white at the knuckles.

"It's from Viktor." He blurted, immediately taking a calming sip from his drink to calm the nerves.

"What? Sorry, I don't think I heard that right." Phichit repeated, eyes suddenly serious.

"Viktor..." Yuuri muttered, hoping Phichit hadn't wanted him to repeat the whole thing.

"Yuuri, how long has-"

"The other day when you sent me off on a break I came straight here to the cafe and I'd already had a mocha and then that waitress brought me another one and said a hot guy with silver hair that had a fringe that covered one eye bought it for me and that he was freaking there a minute ago but he left because he was busy," Yuuri rattled, sucking in a deep breath before continuing, "and he also bought me an after hours skating pass at the Icehouse and that's why I stayed there till like 8 o'clock even though it was supposed to be closed and that's why I got home so late that day I was actually skating I promise."

Phichit stared dumfounded for a moment, "so those skates weren't yours either."

"They aren't...technically," Yuuri affirmed.

"Viktor fucking Nikiforov bought them for you?" Phichit asked, mouth hanging open.

"Y...yeah."

"Yuuri, what the fuck." Phichit sighed, slumping down into his chair.

"It's okay, right? It's not like he's bribing me to do something."

"I hesitate to say yes, but I guess being spoilt sick by a mafioso isn't that illegal. Like a sugar daddy."

"Phichit..." Yuuri sighed, rolling his eyes, "it's not like I asked for it."

"That's the worrying thing Yuuri. That's the worrying thing."

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Signor Ferrari, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," Viktor greeted, extending a gloved hand to shake the shorter, plumper Italian's.

"The pleasure is all mine, Viktor, if you don't mind me calling you that. Please, don't be so formal with me either, Antonio is fine. We'll be working together from now on after all."

"I'm looking forward to it." Viktor returned, a small smile on his lips as the two men firmly shook hands.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Viktor, since I think that's the best policy. I won't hesitate to blow your head off if I think you're pulling some shit behind my back."

Viktor smiled, unshaken, "good to know, Antonio, Italian or not, I like honest men."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it for this week, I'll be back next week, same day same time! I've got a tumblr page, if anyone wants to talk to me (https://apparentlyintelligentpotato.tumblr.com/) I don't really post that much but if you want... Drop some kudos and subscribe if you're looking forward to more ^♡^


	10. Dead Fish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I don't know how to title chapters xD  
> Well here's the new chapter for the week, hope you enjoy it. Also, I just wanted to say thank you SO MUCH to everyone's who's subscribed or bookmarked, dropped a comment or reading! This is for you guys! ^♡^

 

Hold still right before we crash 'cause we both know how this ends

A clock ticks 'til it breaks your glass and I drown in you again

Clarity

-Zedd

 

* * *

 

"I'm not saying we're going to find Viktor, I'm saying we've found whatever it was Viktor was going to give us."

"Alright, I think it's worth a shot." Celestino nodded, eyes glancing around the table, "you rookies coming along? You'll have to stay in the van but it's better than nothing."

"Yeah, we'll come along," Leo replied, glancing to his left at Guang Hong.

"Yeah, we're not getting shot at this time, right?" Minami added, cringing.

"Well, you guys won't get shot at." Yuuri sighed, "but just in case you'll be wearing vests this time." 

Minami nodded, letting out something between a relieved sigh and a grumble. As the others filed out of the room Celestino gestured for Yuuri to stay behind, waiting for Phichit who was the last out to close the door behind himself.

"You gonna go in with them, Yuuri?"

Yuuri nodded, his lips pressed into a resolute line.

"Right then, off you go." Celestino sighed, waving Yuuri off. 

Yuuri slipped out of the office quietly, knowing Phichit would be waiting outside expectantly.

"You going in this time?" He asked as he took a sip from his coffee.

"Yep."

"Are you sure about this, Yuuri?"

"Viktor ain't gonna see us coming this time," Yuuri stated, a triumphant grin on his face.

"A confident little shit, aren't you?" Phichit laughed.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri wiped the water off his face, grimacing as only more accumulated in the light rain. The coldness had seeped through his entire tactical outfit, the only thing seeming remotely warm was the black mask covering his face, the frozen water feeling as if it might penetrate him right down to the bones.

"Remind me why we have to wait in the rain again?" Yuuri hissed to Takeshi, dressed similarly beside him.

"S'not my plan." 

Yuuri rolled his eyes, they'd been monitoring the warehouse for a while now, there were no signs of movement in, out or around the warehouse except for a few port employees zipping around on forklifts. Orders were not to tip them off in case they were on the mafia's payroll. Yuuri laughed inwardly to himself, I mean, who wasn't?

"Alright you're clear, cross to the warehouse, remember, eastern one first." Celestino's voice crackled through the team's comms.

Yuuri held up a hand and gestured for the group to move, bending low and crossing the dark, empty expanse of asphalt between them and their goal with a silent deadliness. Yuuri blinked and glanced down at his shadow, the spinning figures of his legs and feet moving, disrupting the weak light coming from a few different angles, was a little disconcerting. As soon as they reached the walls of the western warehouse the group of men hugged the wall, the light patter of rain against the metal panels of the roof covering the jingle of their equipment. 

"There's another one passing soon, there's a shipping container against the closest wall of the east warehouse, hide in that shadow."

The group hurried towards the next warehouse, each man pausing before making the skip across the lighted corridor between the warehouses. Yuuri waited at the back of the group, watching calmly as one by one the men crossed. 

"He'll be on you in 20 seconds."

Yuuri hissed under his breath, "We're not gonna fit everyone." 

Takeshi turned, raising an eyebrow as the man in front of him dashed across the opening.

"Less than 10."

"Fuck, go Takeshi," Yuuri growled, shoving the older man into the light.

Yuuri peeked around the corner, biting his lip as he saw the forklift appear. If he was lucky the guy would turn right, away from him, or go forward, last option would be that he turns left, almost definitely catching sight of Yuuri in his headlights. That was a 66% chance of this working out simply. Yuuri almost let out an audible sigh as the forklift indicated, he was turning left. Yuuri backed away from the corner, he had 5 seconds. 

He looked backwards, there was nothing, absolutely nothing to hide behind or aside or anything.

4 seconds.

Yuuri glared at the ground, should he take his chances curling up against the wall and hope the guy doesn't catch his black-clad body against a wall of silver?

3 seconds.

Yuuri looked backwards again, something small jutting out from the wall catching his attention. He sprinted towards it. A door!

2 seconds.

It was pitch black inside the warehouse, no one was home. Yuuri threw open the door as quietly as he could, dashing inside.

1 second.

Yuuri shut the door behind him as gently as he could, taking comfort in the tiny click the door gave as it shut.

Yuuri turned, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of his new refuge, the only light was a few beams of moonlight filtering through a  window high up near the ceiling. Yuuri turned back, best not to linger somewhere where he could be caught so easily. He pushed down on the door handle, adding more pressure as it refused to budge. Yuuri paled, What the hell kind of door was locked from the inside only?

"The door is locked, get me some floor plans for the next closest door." Yuuri hissed under his breath, you never knew if someone else might be in here. 

He squinted in the dark, eyes scanning across through the shelves that filled his vision. There seemed to be an opening of sorts in the centre of the warehouse.

"Turn right from the doors you entered." Phichit's voice crackled in his ear.

Yuuri turned left, hugging the shelf with his gun raised at eye level.

"I'm gonna take a quick look around. Doesn't seem to be anyone here." Yuuri whispered, preparing for the onslaught he knew was coming.

"Yuuri! What are you-"

"Katsuki. Watch your back." Celestino interrupted, his tone cold and even. 

Yuuri let out a sigh inside his head. He knew what he was doing and Celestino knew that he could handle himself. Yuuri winded his way between the shelves, eyes flickering left and right as he padded quietly between the towering metal frames. He reached out, picking up a dusty box on the nearest shelf and pulling it open cautiously he peeked inside. Nuts and bolts, just lots of nuts and bolts. Yuuri flinched as the quiet clink of metal against metal echoed around him, no one could have heard that over the rain right? Yuuri whipped his head around, checking all directions he could see. Nothing. Yuuri replaced the box on the shelf, continuing to wind his way through the maze of shelves in a staircase pattern towards the edge of the row of shelves. He paused at the edge, taking a moment to collect himself. He peered cautiously around the edge of the shelf, his finger ready on the trigger as his heart hammered in his ears. The soft moonlight casted a white glow across the wide, concrete expanse of the warehouse, the now much quieter patter of rain echoing eerily in emptiness. Yuuri's breath died in his chest as he quietly holstered his handgun against his hip and yanked his face mask down under his chin.  He stepped cautiously into the moonlight, raising both his hands in the air called out, "Viktor?" 

Viktor glanced up, locking his phone and plunging the lower half of his face into darkness. He was dressed from head to toe in black, the gear hugging the toned curves of his body as he shoved his phone back into a pocket.

"Yuuri?" 

Yuuri simply stared as the man stood, now towering high over him on the top of pallet upon pallet of unidentified containers. If the place was anything to go by, it was cocaine, a shit-tonne of cocaine. More than Yuuri had ever seen in one place at any one time. The smile that spread across Viktor's face was almost angelic in the soft moonlight, his platinum hair and cerulean eyes shimmering in the sea of white light.

"H...Hello," Yuuri stuttered, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear.

"How on earth did you find me so quickly?" Viktor asked, tone serious yet his face seemed to show nothing but pure delight as he hopped down from his pedestal on the pallets.

"Why are you working with Italians?" Yuuri shot back.

"Oh Yuuri, Yuuri, I love it when you're commanding. Always so full of surprises." He teased, smiling as he padded towards Yuuri, swinging the rifle he was holding over his shoulder.

"Answer me." Yuuri hissed, as Viktor stopped, face a bare inch from Yuuri's, with a slither of air separating their bodies.

"I asked first. How did you find me?" Viktor chided, smiling softly.

Yuuri sighed, rolling his eyes, "I worked off what I remembered from the transcripts. I've got a pretty good memory." 

"You were drunk off your ass..." Viktor started, raising an eyebrow.

"I remember that. It's not like I forget everything when I get drunk."

"I hate to differ but-"

"About that Viktor-" Yuuri started, flinching at the sound of men yelling outside.

"Shit. Don't tell me it's time already." Viktor hissed, pushing his cuff back to check his watch. 

"Oh shit. I should go." Yuuri squeaked, turning to run.

"Yuuri, there's only one exit."

"Let me guess-"

"Yeah, the way people are coming in." 

"Viktor-" Yuuri started, barely comprehending as Viktor wrapped a firm arm around his waist, yanking him closer and crushing their lips together.

For a moment every muscle in Yuuri's body froze, the cold now shoved to the back of his mind as Viktor's warm, soft lips caressed his, a gentle warmth blossoming from the right side of his chest. There was a fervent urgency, a hunger to the sudden embrace. He felt the wall between them begin to crumble, even as he desperately tried to stop it. As Viktor broke the kiss, Yuuri's eyes remained transfixed upon the man's swollen lips, now moving to form words.

"Yuuri, I'm sorry." He whispered, a look of agony crossing his face.

"Vik-" Yuuri froze, his body immediately recognising the familiar feeling of metal sliding between his ribs.

"You trust me right?" Viktor murmured, letting go of the knife buried to the hilt in Yuuri's chest and moving his fingers up to gently caress the man's face.

"You s...say that a...after you fucking stab me?" Yuuri choked, looking down at the jet black handle sticking out of his vest, the familiar, warm dribble of blood running down his chest. His own weapon turned against him.

"I'm going to need you to play dead fish, Yuuri." Viktor reached out behind Yuuri's ear, pulling his earpiece out gently and placing it into his own ear.

"Viktor speaking," He spoke calmly, taking a step back away from the still shocked Yuuri.

"You're dead Nikiforov!" Phichit roared.

"The only person who's going to be dead is Yuuri if you don't listen to me." Viktor shot back, balancing Yuuri's handgun in one hand.

"V...Viktor..." Yuuri stuttered, collapsing forward into the Russian's open arms.

"They've got an armada in here. I'm assuming that since Yuuri is here you have a whole team. Get them out unless you want a massacre." Viktor grunted as he lowered Yuuri to the ground.

"And you expect us to just leave Yuuri-"

"Wait at the corner of Waterford St. and Greenleigh St."

"You're insane." Phichit hissed.

"Sanity is overrated." Viktor plucked the earpiece out and tucked it into his pocket.

He ran a few fingers through Yuuri's hair, a soft smile on his face.

"Sorry, Yuuri, you probably wouldn't have agreed otherwise."

"Did you mean it?" Yuuri slurred, reaching up to press a shaky hand to his cheek.

"Mean what?"

Yuuri ignored the question. "H...how did you even know I had my knives on me?" 

"Yuuri, I don't know if you remember, the Morito bar. A dozen heavily armed men after you and they came back with holes in them. Lots of holes." Viktor smiled fondly, his thumb drawing small circles on Yuuri's cheek, "and I don't think there are that many Japanese men in the Detroit Police Department who are as good as you are with knives, let alone carry them normally."

Yuuri laughed, the laugh coming out more like a painful wheeze. Viktor whipped his head up at the sound of the roller doors creaking open. 

Viktor leant down, pressing a gentle kiss to Yuuri's forehead whispered, "I'm coming home soon, Yuuri."

Viktor pulled Yuuri's mask over his face, standing as a rowdy group of men filtered into the warehouse, the lights flickering on. Viktor grimaced, raising his hand to block the piercing lights, much too bright after having been in the moonlight for too long.

"Good evening, Antonio." Viktor chirped, holstering Yuuri's gun in one of the empty holsters on his hip.

"Is that a cop?!" The older Italian man exclaimed, a few of the men loading their weapons.

"All good, just a little hiccup."

"They're like goddamn cockroaches, where you find one there are many hiding! Search the whole place, we're moving everything!" The man roared, at his men, watching as they scrambled in every which direction.

Antonio stalked over to where Viktor was standing, a few metres from Yuuri.

"You stabbed him?"

Viktor shrugged, turning to look at the now deadly still Yuuri.

"Just hang on there, Yuuri," Viktor murmured to himself.

"I'll call someone to dispose of the body." The older man sighed, waving over a few idle men.

"Actually, I was wondering if I could have a favour."

Antonio quirked up an eyebrow, eyes flickering between the Russian and the cop on the floor. 

"Could you drop it off at the corner of Waterford and Greenleigh? A present for an old friend of mine." Viktor pulled his lips into a devilish smile.

"You Russians..." Antonio grumbled, rolling his eyes, "well you heard the man. Take a van. Make it quick."

The two cronies glanced at each other before shuffling over to Yuuri, the larger one of the pair heaving Yuuri onto his shoulder. Viktor watched as the two shuffled towards the roller doors in the distance, his lips pulled into a strained smile.

 

* * *

 

Phichit cracked his fingers, his eyes darting across the quiet, empty street as he bounced his foot up and down. A black, nondescript van missing a license plate squealed to a stop on the corner, interrupting the otherwise peaceful silence. Phichit grabbed the door handle, only for Celestino to place a heavy hand on his shoulder, a silent warning. Minami, Leo and Guang-Hong watched quietly from the back of the van, avoiding each other's eyes in the disquieting atmosphere. A figure jumped out of the side of the van, tossing open the side door and hauling something out. Phichit's heart stopped for a moment as he made out of the shape of a body being hauled onto the sidewalk. As soon as the black van peeled away Phichit threw himself out of the van, leaving the door wide open as he sprinted across the black asphalt. The words "please be okay" bounced around inside his skull, the sound of his hammering heart drowning out the sounds of his feet slamming across the ground. Phichit slid to a stop, dropping to his knees beside his partner who was face down on the concrete. He reached out gingerly flipping his friend over onto his back. All the colour drained from the Thai man's face as a flurry of words tore from his lungs, the sounds of his howls echoing against the surrounding houses, and the police van pulled up beside him, the side door thrown open. 

"W...we....n...need  need...a h...hospital." Phichit gasped, cradling his best friend in his lap, his hands covered in blood as he tried desperately to compress the wound.

"Phichit, everything is going to be okay. The closest hospital is less than a minute away." Minami whispered, rubbing the Thai's shoulder reassuringly, struggling to balance himself as the van screeched around another corner. 

Phichit choked, tears coming to his eyes as he looked down at his friend, the usual rosiness drained from his porcelain cheeks.

"The hospital is less than a block away. Get ready to get him out." Celestino yelled over the sound of the siren.

Leo nodded, glancing at Minami and Guang-Hong.

When the van skidded to a stop outside the hospital's emergency entrance, Phichit threw the door open, clearing the way for the 3 other men to carry Yuuri in.

"We need a doctor!" Phichit screeched as soon as the glass sliding doors opened, glancing back at his friend, limbs hanging loosely like a rag doll from the team's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a rollercoaster, thanks for reading! Please drop a comment or some kudos if you haven't already, I really appreciate it. I'll see everyone same time next week!


	11. Pining Sketches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo everyone! Here's the chapter for this week. Hope you enjoy it ^♡^ (PS. I still don't know how to name chapters)

I cannot stop this sickness taking over  
It takes control and drags me into nowhere  
I need your help, I can't fight this forever  
I know you're watching,  
I can feel you out there

My Demons

-Starset

 

* * *

  

 

Yuuri turned and groaned, an incessant beeping jarring him out of his sleep. 

"Ugh, shut...up," Yuuri grunted, lashing out with his hand to swat at his alarm clock.

Yuuri flinched when his hand smacked down on a something soft, warm...and moving. He peeled his eyes open to look. 

"Yuuri?" Phichit asked, rubbing the top of his head, "why'd you hit me?"

"Oh sorry, I thought..." Yuuri stopped mid-sentence, lifting his head to look at his surroundings.

"You're awake." Phichit choked.

"How long have I been out?"

"Just a day."

Yuuri groaned, dropping his head back down into the fluffy white pillow. 

Phichit sputtered, wrapping his friend in a hug, "I'm so glad you're okay. You're so lucky-"

"What do you mean?"

"He tried to kill you! You're lucky you're alive, I mean."

"Phichit, he wasn't trying to kill me." Yuuri sighed, massaging his temples.

"I beg to differ!" Yuuko bawled as she dashed into the hospital room, a bouquet of flowers in her arms, throwing her arms around Yuuri. 

"Ugh, you too?! I'm gonna die by group hug." Yuuri groaned, swatting at his two overly affectionate friends.

The two hesitantly unlatched themselves from Yuuri, eyes brimming with tears.

"I can explain," Yuuri started, eyes shifting to the door as it opened once again.

"Explain then," Phichit grumbled.

As Yuuri opened his mouth to start speaking, the door opened once again.

"Yuuri?" A tall brunette asked, worry contorting his statuesque features.

"Greg?" 

"I dropped by the precinct, they said you got hurt so I thought I'd, drop by?" Greg held up a bunch of flowers, "I see you already have flowers..." the man winced and stared at his feet.

"The more, the merrier!" Yuuko chirped, waving the guy over.

Greg placed the flowers beside Yuuko's bouquet.

"Here are the files you asked for," Greg pulled a dark brown Manila folder from under his arm, handing it to Yuuri muttered, "you really were always the committed one."

"Ah, thanks," Yuuri muttered, drawing small circles on the file in his lap.

"Yuuri, take care of yourself alright?" Greg rested a hand on Yuuri's shoulder, rubbing his shoulder gently.

"I will, thanks for the favour, bro. I'll pay you back for it some day."

"Really, there's no need."

"I will pay you back. You're a friend, I'm not going to use and abuse you." Yuuri gave him a strained smile.

"Guess I can't argue then." Greg smiled, taking a step back, "I'll see you around, Yuuri." 

"Seeya." Yuuri waved as Greg slipped out of the room, shooting one last smile as he shut the door behind himself.

Phichit whistled,"who the hell was that hunk and why was there so much...tension in the air?"

"Uh, we were partners for a while. And uh..."

"More?" Yuuko asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh. You dated?"

"No. It wasn't like that. We weren't involved." Yuuri stuttered, waving his friends off.

"Oh god, you're a dense idiot. It was THAT one sided wasn't it?"

"We were just...I don't know, friends with benefits?" 

"Yep, you're dense," Yuuko sighed, rolling her eyes.

"I'm not that dense..." Yuuri groaned,"Okay maybe I just pretended like I didn't know he liked me."

Yuuri opened the file in his lap, flicking through the file absently.

"So, what happened after I blacked out?" Yuuri asked, thumbing his way through a few pages.

"We picked you up on an intersection Viktor told us."

"Huh, and where was that?"

"Just some random corner. Waterford and Greenleigh?" Yuuko muttered.

Yuuri froze, glancing at a surprised looking Phichit, "Phichit, look at these and tell me what you think."

He handed two cards covered in neat loops of handwriting to his friend. Yuuko watched curiously.

"Uh, Yuuri why did you hand me two pieces of someone's writing."

"One piece is the one I had on the pillow beside me when I woke up and Viktor was gone."

"And the other?..." Phichit murmured, bringing the two pieces of evidence closer to his face.

"Was when I woke up alone in a hotel room more than a year ago. Before I moved back to Detroit."

"You've got to be fucking with me..." Phichit hissed.

"And well, 237 Greenleigh was unanimously decided to be a secret."

"Woah, woah, slow down. What the hell happened at Greenleigh?" Yuuko queried.

Yuuri rolled his eyes,"have you ever wondered why Viktor always seemed to be so fond of me."

"No...I always assumed he thought it was fun to have someone as keen as you chasing him." Phichit muttered, staring wide-eyed at Yuuri.

"What happened in DC?" Yuuko asked, tilting her head to a side.

Yuuri blushed, "I woke up naked and alone in a hotel suite."

Phichit stared, opening his mouth to say something.

"I was really hung over. I got woken up by housekeeping. The cleaner just told me that the place was frequented by the Russian mafia and that I should get the hell out of there. I thought she seemed a little crazy, so I checked myself. If the expensive suits didn't scream mafia enough, it was the stockpile of Russian firearms under the bed."

"And you're saying..." Phichit started, raising his hands to his face.

"I was so hammered, I slept with Viktor Nikiforov and didn't even remember meeting him." Yuuri shrugged.

"And all you have is this letter?" Phichit asked, holding up a photo of the older piece.

"I think the letter alone is pretty damning," Yuuko added, stroking her chin. 

"Is there something else, Yuuri?"

"Well, he mentioned the Morito Bar incident."

Phichit groaned, covering his face with his hands, he moved a few fingers to watch Yuuri, "what does Morito have to do with anything."

"Well, assuming he tried to keep a track of me he must've of been quite confused when I completely disappeared from the city and the DEA."

"You came back to Detroit." Yuuko murmured.

"Yeah, it was a coincidence I met him in DC and another coincidence that I was the cop who crossed his men once again in Detroit."

"And he....connected the dots..." Phichit pursed his lips.

"That was around the time I got assigned to the Bratva." Yuuri sighed, plucking the letters from Phichit's hands and running his fingers over the tiny indents in the page.

"And then Greenleigh happened." 

"What happened at Greenleigh?" Yuuko asked.

Phichit laughed,"I cannot believe I did not connect the two events."

"Basically, an old lady gave us an anonymous tip that strange men with Russian accents were working out of an apartment downstairs from hers."

"We'd been a step behind them every single step of the way. Fucking goose chase is what it was." Phichit mumbled, gesturing dismissively.

"I staked out outside the apartment at a cafe opposite. It was better than being crammed into the van. I spent an hour or two there every day. Eventually, we saw someone heading in so we decided to raid the place. But by the time we actually got there the apartment had been stripped bare, hard to say if there had been anything there in the first place though. The only thing left behind was a painting that ran from the ceiling to the floor on a wall adjacent to the window facing the street."

"A painting?" Yuuko scrunched her eyebrows up.

Phichit snorted, "could hardly call it a mere painting, it was a masterpiece."

"It was a painting of me, sitting and enjoying my mochas at the cafe opposite," Yuuri grunted, fighting the blush crawling onto his face.

"Oh." Yuuko's mouth fell open.

"Honestly at the time I treated it like a challenge. Like they thought so lightly of us that they had the nerve to take the time to paint me instead of watching. But I realised it also meant they knew who I was. Makes sense that it was Viktor."

"Viktor can paint?" Yuuko queried, looking more confused with every passing moment.

"I've seen him draw," Phichit muttered.

"Really? How come I've never seen?" Yuuri asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We gave him the tiniest piece of charcoal so he couldn't stab anyone with it. All he did was draw portraits of you." Phichit laughed, "I probably should've understood the signs earlier."

Yuuko looked down at her watch, gasping in dismay, "it was nice chatting with you boys, but I'm going to be late for work." She patted Yuuri on the head and skipped on out of the room.

After a pause, Phichit wiped the smile off his face, "Morito was Viktor's men?"

"I'm not sure. He just said a bunch of men came back with holes in them." Yuuri grimaced, cringing at the memories.

"Morito was on me. I'm honestly very surprised Celestino hadn't fired me." Phichit sighed.

"Me too."

"Yuuri, is there something else you're not telling me?"

Yuuri opened his mouth, staring down at the hands wrung together in his lap. "Well..."

 

* * *

  

 

**Detroit 2016 : A month after Yuuri joins the Detroit Police Department**

 

Yuuri punched Phichit's shoulder, grinning, "enjoy your date, Phich. I'll cover for you tonight, so don't worry about it."

"I'm so sorry man if I'd have known I would've scheduled the date a little later!" Phichit whined.

"It's fine, it's less than an hour of patrol. Now get your ass moving before you're late."

"Fashionably late, you mean?" Phichit winked before turning around and jogging into the cool spring night.

Yuuri watched until his friend rounded a corner, disappearing into the bustling crowds of the city. He flinched when his radio crackled to life.

"We have a noise complaint near you, mind checking it out?"

"Yep, sure. Give me the address." 

Ten minutes later Yuuri pulled up opposite what appeared to be a trendy night club, he winced, cursing inwardly at the fool who made a noise complaint about living next to a night club. He sighed, grabbing his jacket off the empty front passenger seat and awkwardly shimmying it on in the tiny space. It was just a noise complaint, what could POSSIBLY go wrong? Yuuri shivered as he stepped out of the car, awkwardly stepping from foot to foot until he could dash across the road between streams of traffic. As he stepped up the front of the club a terrible feeling floated over his gut. 

"Where's the bouncer?" He muttered under his breath, glancing around.

There was no one in sight. A perfectly fine looking club without a bouncer? Yuuri placed a single hand on his holster and pushed the door open, immediately reeling from the flashing lights inside. He glanced around, besides the strobes lights cutting across the room every few seconds there didn't seem to be many people here tonight. A bartender was standing awkwardly to the side, giving Yuuri a strained smile. Yuuri trudged over, who the hell gives a noise complaint about an empty club? They weren't even playing music for crying out loud.

"Slow night?" Yuuri asked, resting his elbows on the bar.

"Y...yeah." The bartender stuttered out, grabbing a glass and cleaning it absently.

Yuuri raised an eyebrow, turning to look around the bar, a flurry of movement catching his attention. He watched as a cop exited a door at the back of the club and wound her way over to Yuuri.

"Ah, good evening," she said, nodding at Yuuri, "they must've called us twice by accident."

Yuuri blinked, "Huh..."

That never happened. Ever. Let alone for a noise complaint. There wasn't supposed to be anyone else patrolling this area.

"Sorry about that." She muttered apologetically, running a few fingers through her bright red curls.

"I've never seen you before..." Yuuri muttered, tilting his head to a side to get a better look at the other cop who had tensed up.

Everything seemed to happen in an instant. One moment Yuuri had been staring at her the next she'd pulled a gun out and Yuuri dashed across the room screaming "WHAT THE FUCK?!" as he dived behind a table, flipping it over as cover. Bullets were flying over his head and bouncing off the thin metal table, leaving indents. When the shots stopped momentarily, Yuuri stuck his head over as a bunch of men, yelling in what he assumed to be Russian now joined the impostor cop, all wearing black body armour and armed with assault rifles.

"I am so fucked, so fucked, so fucked." Yuuri hissed as he checked how much firepower he had on him. 

Yuuri paled, 20 or so bullets versus a dozen guys with submachine guns and probably body armour to match.

"Looking great Yuuri, looking great." He muttered, grabbing his radio screamed, "I need back up! Morito Bar. Got A DOZEN heavily armed guys!"  

Yuuri sucked in a deep breath, firing a few shots as some of them tried to sneak up on his sides. This table wasn't going to last long. Ten bullets left. He focused on the closest one, watching as the man inched closer, gun held ready. Yuuri blinked, how could he forget? He reached down to pat the knives sheathed on his two ankles.

"10 bullets, 2 knives. That's enough for everyone." Yuuri smirked, yanking his radio out of its holster, wrapping it into a neat ball.

He snuck closer to the edge of the table, eyes watching the approaching man in the reflection of a glass feature nearby. Yuuri took a deep breath, sliding a single blade out of its sheath, smiling nostalgically as the metal glinted in the low light of the club. Yuuri could barely hear the pulsing of the music over the hammering of his heart, he lunged out of his hiding spot, hucking the radio at the startled man.

"Take this, you fucker!" He roared, jumping and burying the knife to the hilt in the man's hand, who let out a scream before stumbling back, giving Yuuri plenty of opportunity to force him into a rear-naked choke.

He was out in seconds. Yuuri picked the man up under the armpits, dragging him across the room, using him as a meat shield. 

When the shots kept coming, Yuuri grumbled, "wow, they don't even care if it's one of their guys."

He fired haphazardly, inching across the room until he'd found a suitable wall to hide behind, dumping the guy as he made a jump for the wall. Yuuri paused before dashing out from behind the wall, leaping over a table with knives brandished, landing a solid kick in the chest of another man. He yanked the man's gun out of his momentarily shaky grasp, tossing it across the room as he buried his blade in the man's chest. Yuuri dashed back to cover as the man stumbled back, a gurgling sound escaping his throat as he collapsed to the ground. Yuuri turned, his eyes already on his next target, bending down to help his fallen comrade. A look of terror crossed the man's eyes as he dodged successive slashes from Yuuri's knives. The moment his concentration lapsed Yuuri sunk his knife into the man's cheek, feeling almost no resistance from the flesh. Yuuri reached out staunchly, grabbed the man's head and slammed him into the glass wall feature, letting go and watching disinterestedly as the man slid to the ground unconscious.

The different assailants almost seemed to blur together. This was too easy. Yuuri spun around, his senses attuned to the sound of crunching glass behind him. The impostor cop from earlier, her red hair now matted with sweat, stood with a knife and gun held defensively over one of the men Yuuri had incapacitated. Yuuri dived for cover instinctively as bullets smashed into the wall beside him, narrowly missing his arm. The red-head was on the move, stalking after him with her gun raised, a determined look in her eye. Yuuri waited, watching the woman through the reflection of hundreds of shattered pieces of glass littering the floor. His eyes flickered towards the ceiling. The strobe lights were still working. If he waited for just the right angle the lights would reflect against the glass leaving her blind. He waited.

He lunged, hands immediately going to disarm her, he snapped the guns out of her fingers, eyes following as it slid away from them. Yuuri barely had a moment to breathe, hissing as he dodged backwards, narrowly avoiding a slash. The woman huffed, twirling the pocket knife in her fingers as she slashed, Yuuri dived to a side, immediately lunging at her open chest. As the two circled each other, lunging and slashing a kick from the woman sent Yuuri reeling backwards and onto the ground.

"Fuck! The police are here! Let's get out of here!" A man screamed from across the room, standing by the back exit of the club. 

The woman scrambled for her gun, firing a few shots at Yuuri as she turned to run. Yuuri dived behind a shelf, yanking his gun out of its holster, finger trained on the trigger. Yuuri glanced over the table. Had they all run? He stood up cautiously, pacing towards the back door, twirling the blade in one hand impatiently. 

Every muscle in his body froze as the entire club was flooded with white lights, his hands instinctively covering his eyes. Yuuri's eyes whipped to the front entrance of the club, the sound of doors banging and safeties being clicked off. Yuuri pulled his gun up to eye level, his other arm crossed across his body, knife held in a firm backwards grip. Several men in tactical police gear filed into the room, their guns trained on him.

"Put your weapons down!" One screamed.

"Stop it! Put your guns down! He's one of us!" Phichit screeched, shoving his way past the execution-like line of men.

Yuuri stared impassively, 4 bullets, 1 knife. Not enough for a 1 v 6.

"Yuuri?" Phichit asked, taking a hesitant step towards his friends.

This looked like something out of a nightmare. Yuuri stared straight at him, eyes glazed over and almost drilling through Phichit's skull, and yet he was unresponsive. His empty eyes betrayed no emotion, his gun still held pointedly at Phichit's head, probably right between the eyes. Yuuri was covered in blood, a splash on his face, his shirt soaked. If he was hurt, he needed help.

"Yuuri, I need you to put your weapons down," Phichit said, scrunching his eyebrows together. Something was very wrong.

Yuuri blinked, lowering his gun slightly, his eyes refocusing, meeting Phichit's.

"Phich?" Yuuri asked, lowering his gun till it was pointed at the ground.

"Hi." Phichit let out a sigh of relief.

Yuuri glanced down at his hands, dropping his weapons as if he'd been burnt, the other police in the room flinching at the sound of metal clattering onto the glass dance floor. He turned his hands over shakily, eyes focusing onto the blood drying into the lines of his palms and under his nails. 

"Ah shit," Yuuri muttered, his eyes freezing on the body of one of the men slumped over the glass. 

Blood pooled on the bench top, every plop of blood dropping to the ground sending a wave of nausea through Yuuri's body. He cupped a mouth over his mouth, choking out a sound reminiscent of a dying animal, he yanked his hand away from his face as he soon as he felt the half-dried blood smear against his lips. He doubled over, the entire contents of his stomach emptying onto the dance floor already decorated with bloody footprints. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was...intense. Can't wait for next week! If you liked the update drop some kudos! As always, I appreciate the comments. <3 See you next week!


	12. Of Quiet Men and Dancing Blades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! How's it going? I'm drowning in assessments but semester break is coming up in a few weeks, I have a little surprise for everyone. Not really a surprise though, I'll elaborate further in the end notes. For now, enjoy!

Walk on through a red parade and refuse to make amends  
It cuts deep through our ground and makes us forget all common sense

Clarity

-Zedd 

 

* * *

 

 

Detroit, 2016

 

Mila stumbled into the garage, the arm of a groaning man, who could barely stand, thrown over her shoulder. She dragged him towards the table in the centre of the empty warehouse, lit by a single lamp. Viktor stood, resting his hands on the table.

"Mila?" He called, a frown crossing his face.

"Vitya, we need the doctor." She hissed, gesturing with her head at the other injured men behind her.

Viktor dug his phone out his pocket, pressed a few buttons and raised it to his ear. "Georgi, we need you ASAP." He ended the call quickly, sliding the phone back into his pocket and helping one of the men into a chair.

"How long till he gets here?" 

"5 minutes."

"Goddamnit." She hissed, tightening the tourniquet around the leg of one of her men.

"What the hell happened to you guys? I thought I sent you to collect some debts, not start an all out fight." Viktor sighed, pursing his lips.

"We got ambushed. W...we...we wouldn't have stood a chance." 

"Calm down, tell me what happened." Viktor murmured, placing a reassuring hand on Mila's shoulder, "a rival gang? Upstarts? Don't tell me the bar employees 'ambushed' you."

"It wasn't even a gang, it was just one guy. One fucking cop!" She growled, slamming a hand down on the table.

"One...cop?" Viktor's eyes widened.

"Yeah, just one! I didn't know the police trained monsters like that."

"There was like, a dozen of you, against one cop?"

"Yes! Jesus Christ, I haven't gone up against someone that good in God knows how long. He was suicidal. If he had stuck with his gun he wouldn't have gotten any of us. But no! He switched to some knives and just charged at us!" Mila gestured wildly.

"How many did he..." Viktor started.

"Six, and I would've been another if I hadn't gotten the fuck out of there."

"I can only see five injured."

"W...we had to leave Mikhail behind."

"Shit." Viktor hissed.

"It should be alright, I think he's dead. Last I saw of him, he had a 6-inch blade buried to the hilt in his face."

Viktor gawked, a cop burying a knife in someone's face, now that was unusual.

"It was like...like the blades were an extension of his body, and every slash and stab was like the fluid movements of a dance."

"A dancer?" Viktor pressed a finger to his lips.

"He moved like one. It's been a while since I've seen someone use a blade like it was an art form."

"Out of curiosity, what was he like, physically?"

"Pretty generic, honestly. Five foot 8. Asian, probably Japanese. Black hair. Brown eyes. Honestly, I can't think of anything that stood out about him, plus the club was so dark. Why?"

"He moved like a dancer?"

"Yes. Vitya, why?"

"Oh nothing, just weighing up the enemy," he chuckled, turning and walking away. "Detroit huh, Yuuri?" He murmured, shoving his hands into his pockets.  

 

* * *

 

 

Phichit tried desperately to swallow the lump lodged in his throat, but it refused to budge. He knew something had been wrong when Yuuri came back, but he hadn't exactly pictured his friend standing, soaked in blood from head to toe, and none of it was his. Yes, it was scary, but Yuuri was still the same Yuuri from 4 years ago, right?

"Come in!" Celestino called from his desk.

Phichit shuffled into the room, his hands clasped together in front of him, he stood stiffly by the chair in front of the Captain's desk.

"Please, take a seat."

"Please, don't fire Yuuri! He'd never hurt an innocent soul!" Phichit cried, bowing his head.

"Calm down, Chulanont. I didn't bring you here to tell you I'm firing your best friend."

"Oh thank god," Phichit muttered, letting out a sigh of relief as he slumped down into the chair.

"The one guy they left behind is fine, recovering in hospital."

"Oh..."

"He's not willing to talk though."

"That's unfortunate."

"I do, however, think it's time for you to tell me what you know."

"What I know?" Phichit echoed, tilting his head to a side.

"Have you seen the footage from the club?"

Phichit shook his head, watching curiously as the captain turned his laptop around so the both of them could see. He tapped the space bar, the screen flickering on to grainy CCTV footage from the previous night. Phichit paled. He watched as his best friend lashed at the armed men, disarming and decapacitating them deftly. It was nightmarish, there was no other way to describe it. Celestino reached out and shut the laptop just as Yuuri was about to pounce on another man.

"I think you've seen enough," the older man murmured thoughtfully. "This was a case of self-defence, the department gets that. But there seems more to Yuuri Katsuki than meets the eye."

"He didn't even do any martial arts in high school. Honestly, this is the first time I've ever seen him fight anyone. He was a ballet kind of kid." 

"People change."

Phichit nodded, "I'll talk to him about it."

"For now he's to take a week off, we'll see how it goes after that." Celestino sighed.

"Alright, I'll tell him." Phichit stood up and made towards the door.

"Oh, and Phichit?"

"Yeah?"

"He's got a good head on his shoulders. I've seen the detective work he's done in the little time he's been with us. It's good stuff. It would be a shame to lose him, perhaps he would be more comfortable with a role that wouldn't require him in the field so much."

"I'll ask." Phichit nodded, excusing himself.

As he trudged towards the elevators, waving goodbye to a few of his coworkers, he smiled grimly. They were overjoyed to have him back, Minako, Yuuko and even Takeshi, but even Yuuko had noticed that something was different. Soon enough Phichit was standing in front of his apartment door, digging his keys out of pocket. As he stepped into the dark corridor he reached out and flicked the corridor light on, kicking his shoes off. He stepped past the living room, pausing and turning to squint into the pitch black darkness. He was pretty sure he'd drawn all the curtains in the morning before he left, why were they closed? He squinted, his eyes barely making out the blurry shape of a figure curled up on the couch, facing the back of the couch.

"Yuuri?" Phichit took a single step into the room, his body casting a long shadow over the carpet.

"Oh...Phich. Sorry, I let myself in. I hope you don't mind." Yuuri curled even tighter.

"No, it's alright. Are you okay? I thought you weren't supposed to be discharged for another day." Phichit murmured, scratching the back of his head.

"I said I wanted to go home, they said it was fine."

Phichit stepped closer. Something was wrong.

"Yuuri, are you really okay?" He placed a soft hand on his friend's shoulder, eyes widening as Yuuri shrunk from his touch,  curling even tighter.

"I'm fine. I'm just tired." Yuuri replied, his voice muffled.

"Yuuri, look at me," Phichit demanded, he was going to get to the bottom of this.

"Phichit, please..." Yuuri groaned.

"Yuuri. Now." Phichit rumbled.

Yuuri hesitantly unfurled himself, sitting and turning around slowly to face Phichit. Phichit's mouth fell open into a small 'oh'. The bags under Yuuri's eyes were further accentuated by the red streaks running down his cheeks. 

"You're a terrible liar," Phichit muttered, reaching out to straighten a few locks of his best friend's hair.

"So I still look like shit then?" Yuuri laughed bitterly, eyes rising tiredly to meet Phichit's.

"Yuuri, tell me what's wrong. Talk to me."

"Don't wanna." Yuuri grumbled, tucking his knees against his chest.

"Yuuri, we're not kids anymore. Wait, what happened to your hand?"

Phichit grabbed onto Yuuri's wrist, sighing as the hand was yanked from his grasp with surprising force.

Yuuri clutched the hand against his chest, suddenly breaking into a sob.

"I punched your bathroom mirror, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He choked, burying his face in his friend's shoulder.

Phichit stroked his back gently, "shh, it's okay. Just breathe. Take your time."

"I l...lied." He choked out.

"What?"

"N...not exactly. They t...told me Minako was going to visit at the hospital so I ran. I ran away. I lied to you two weeks ago when I said I went to visit her, I d...drove all the way there but I j...just sat in the car. I couldn't. I j...just keep running, I'm such a coward." He sobbed, his fingers digging into his friend's back.

"Yuuri...why?"

Yuuri shoved Phichit away, holding his friend at arm's length. 

"I disappeared for four years. I rarely called home and rarely became never. What do you say to someone after abandoning them like that?" Tears ran freely down Yuuri's face, his eyes searching Phichit's desperately.

"Sorry, Yuuri. You say sorry."

"I've done so many terrible things Phichit," he sobbed. Wrapping his friend in a tight embrace once again, he whispered, "so many things I'm not proud of."

Phichit fought the tears that were threatening to burst from him. That was not what Yuuri needed. Four long years ago they'd let him disappear, he would mature, he would 'grow out of it' as some described. But nothing had changed from the fragile boy who had left all those years ago. He had been as frail as a cracked mirror but now, sobbing into Phichit's arms, he felt as delicate as a snowflake in the palm of a child, helpless but to watch it melt away.

 

After Phichit had tucked Yuuri into bed and was sufficiently sure that the other man was sound asleep, he retreated to his own room, shutting the door behind him. He pulled out his phone, scrolling down the contact list he tapped on the name of an old friend.

"Hey, Minako, are you busy?" he whispered.

"No. Want to talk?"

"Yeah, about Yuuri."

There was a short silence on the other end of the line, "how is he doing?"

"Alright. I wanted to apologise to you on his behalf-"

"There's no need Phichit. It's okay."

"No, it's not okay. If I had known he'd been avoiding you since he came back to Detroit I would've done something!" Phichit hissed into his phone, walking over to his bed and collapsing onto it with a sigh.

"I hoped that maybe he just never got around to seeing me." Minako sighed.

"We should never have let him leave."

"Could we really have stopped him?"

"We could've tried, goddamnit."

"Is he not okay?"

"He kept muttering about doing something he wasn't proud of. Minako he got suspended for stabbing 6 crooks."

"I thought-"

"We hospitalised him because he didn't exactly remember stabbing anyone."

"Phichit..." Minako said, her voice shaking.

"Are you free tomorrow?"

"I can be." She affirmed.

"I'll talk to Yuuri when he wakes up, I'll call you if he's willing to talk."

"I'll close up my bar for tomorrow then." She murmured.

 

* * *

 

Detroit, 2017

 

"Phichit, before I blacked out..." Yuuri paused, looking to his friend as if seeking permission to continue.

"Yeah?"

"Before he stabbed me..."

"Yeah???"

"He kissed me too." Yuuri's face flushed a bright red as he stared into his lap.

"Oh...OHHH...So I did hear kissing over the comms."

"Shut the fuck up! If you tell anyone-"

"O'mgawd, relax. Not like you were the one that kissed him." 

Yuuri shrugged, letting out a long sigh and flicking awkwardly through the pages of the file as Phichit continued to pore over the two samples of handwriting.

"Still, this...has to be...a joke..." Phichit mumbled as he squinted at the two pieces of paper.

"No joke."  Yuuri sighed.

"Fuck."

"Yeah...could we not tell Celestino?"

"No, not for the sake of your embarrassed ass. We can't sweep something like this under the rug." Phichit hissed.

"Please, I'll-"

"Yuuri," Phichit sighed, placing the two pieces of paper back into his friend's lap, "we could use this to our advantage."

Yuuri's eyes widened."What do you mean?"

"I mean, I think I could bet money that he wouldn't hurt you."

"Phichit, you're forgetting that Viktor Nikiforov is mafia. He's a thug, he wouldn't hesitate if I got in his way." Yuuri pulled his lips into a thin line as he snapped the file shut and tossed it onto the bedside table.

"After all the time you've spent with him, do you honestly think he wouldn't hesitate, not at all?"

"You tell me Phichit. You were the one that was accusing him of trying to kill me ten minutes ago." Yuuri pulled the sheets up around his shoulders.

"Fuck, I don't know for sure either."

 

After a short silence, Yuuri spoke once again. "Phich, he said he was coming back."

"Coming back? Oh, that's just..."

"Bullshit?" Yuuri finished, laughing a little.

"Yeah."

"I don't know. It didn't seem like he was joking. He was serious." Yuuri turned to face the window, watching water droplets run down the glass.

"Viktor? Serious?" Phichit scoffed.

"Yeah. Really, I'm not kidding." Yuuri smiled faintly, Phichit was right, the Viktor they knew was never serious.

"Yuuri...?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you ever think that Viktor was both exactly like the legends and the opposite? At the same time?" Phichit pondered.

"The Russian White Demon?" Yuuri scoffed.

"Yeah..."

"He is calculating and ambitious. Impulsive, no doubt about it. Audacious is probably the right word." Yuuri stared quietly out the window, his mind no longer in the conversation.

"Buddy, why don't you get some rest? I'll head home, grab a change of clothes then head to the precinct. Work keeps piling up, even when you're not around, you know?" Phichit snorted, reaching for his coat.

"You know you could always bring me some wor-"

"Yuuri, no. You're still recovering!"

"Fine. But I am going to be so...so...so...so...so boooorrrreeeeeeddddd-"

"Okay, stop it. I'll ask Celestino, if he gives the okay then I might bring you some stuff." Phichit whined.

Yuuri laughed, grinning at the door even after his friend left. He fluffed the pillows on his bed, grabbing the thicker blanket bundled at his feet and draping it over himself. Closing his eyes he let out a long breath.

 

The White Demon of the Bratva. That's a nostalgic name. Until Phichit had mentioned, it Yuuri hadn't heard it in a long time. He remembered the first time he 'thought' he had met Viktor like it was yesterday. Just like this time, he'd been separated from most of the group, probably on purpose. 

 

(Start Flashback: Mid 2016)

 

Yuuri flourished in his investigative role. Yes, he was good with numbers, with faces and information. He was infamous within a few months of working with the DPD. He was obsessed with his work, though Yuuri had preferred the words dedicated or passionate. 

 

He was good at what he did, still, that didn't stop the occasional curious person from asking why Yuuri had been suspended in his very first month with the department. When Celestino was asked he simply replied that he had personal issues. And whilst people could speculate all they wanted, no one could even contemplate that Yuuri would do something stupid enough to warrant being suspended. He was quiet, friendly and unassuming. He was good at fading into wall decoration at parties. Trouble, naturally, was the last thing anyone would think to describe him as. 

 

But Yuuri Katsuki was an enigma. His investigative work was worth the man's weight in gold so Celestino really wasn't regretting keeping him around. But as much as he was glued to his desk with his face down in papers, no one could beat Yuuri at the firing range. Yes, people were aware of his background with the DEA, but that couldn't explain why he was so goddamned good at everything. Definitely not the knife-throwing tricks and neither could it ever explain his endless drive to catch criminals, it fuelled him day and night, a potent, invisible force which some likened to dark matter. Unknown in its origins or composition, yet powerful in exerting its power on the things around it.

 

For weeks Yuuri had complained to Phichit. He was missing something, and it turned out he was right all along and not just paranoid. A series of massive drug thefts from local gangs and a shift in power had revealed one big picture that everyone had missed. A single group had entered the scene and was driving business larger than Yuuri had dealt with so far. It wasn't hard to see that they weren't just some new group with a lot of energy. Whoever they were, they had patience and experience.

 

It was just a raid gone a little awry. Yuuri sucked in a deep breath. So Nikiforov was brave enough to come face to face with him. Up until now, no one had a clear picture of Viktor Nikiforov. He was a mystery, sure they'd heard descriptions, but no one had a real picture. And even if someone had a photo it was blurry and pixelated, simply put, useless. Yuuri had a collection of drawings of the man. Together the descriptions and drawings formed a picture. Artists had found the process painful every time. People gave the vaguest descriptions. Honestly, Yuuri had gotten to the end of his line with people saying the man was beautiful, angelic, statuesque and the hall of fame entry: "godly". Yuuri supposed he understood now. The man was undeniably beautiful, actually, the word beautiful didn't do him justice at all, and neither did all of those artist's renderings. Viktor Nikiforov killed men on a whim, yet as they said he never did anything without a reason. He smiled, yes, angelically, in the soft breeze, his locks fluttered, revealing a pair of eyes drilling into Yuuri's own. Time seemed to freeze. Yuuri tumbled into the seemingly endless depths of his eyes. Cerulean, like the sky on the clearest days or the seawater on the most beautiful equatorial beaches. Scrap that. The most beautiful beach, with the whitest sand to match his alabaster skin and a clear, radiant summer sky.

"Hello, Yuuri, nice to see you," Viktor smirked, brushing a few locks of his silver hair out his face.

Yuuri blinked, that wasn't right, he made it sound like they'd met each other before. "Nice to meet you, I guess." Yuuri sighed, holding his gun steady at the man's head.

Viktor paused, looking a little confused for a second, "if I were you I would tell your men to put their guns down."

"And why is that?"

Viktor smiled and gestured at Yuuri, "look down."

Yuuri did as he was told, every muscle in his body immobilised as his eyes followed the tiny red dot trained on his chest.

"Shit." Smith hissed, looking down at his own chest.

"One for all 7 of you. Aren't I an inclusive host?" Viktor chuckled, crossing his arms loosely.

"Weapons down. Don't risk it." Celestino's voice crackled into their comms.

"You heard the captain," Yuuri muttered under his breath, slowly dropping his arms to his sides and holstering his gun.

"Great, I was hoping to have a peaceful talk."

"Peaceful huh?" Yuuri scoffed.

"Yeah," Viktor smiled.

"What advantage do you get, meeting us?"

"I get to see you?" Viktor grinned.

"Huh?" 

"You've been chasing for a while, think I didn't notice you, detective?"

"Uh..."

 

(End Flashback)

 

Viktor had been nothing like the figure Yuuri had constructed in his mind. The real Viktor was still whimsical, but he was light and kind. Yuuri scoffed, who was he kidding, there was no 'real' Viktor. They were one and the same. But it didn't feel possible. Viktor Nikiforov was too human. Yuuri covered his face with his hands, not bothering to close his eyes. Viktor is too much.

Yes, sleep truly seemed like a good idea at that moment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Viktor my precious... heads up for some of Viktor's back story coming up soon xD Hope you enjoyed the new update. On the note of the surprise: During semester break I will have a lot more free time to write so I might even be doing double-updates per week, that is TWO UPDATES per week! Whoo! that'll be good.


	13. Day Trips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii everyone! Sorry this is a little later than usual, a very special friend of mine was distracting me. I survived an entire week of assessments and got to write this, yay! Well, hope you enjoy it!

Always missing people that I shouldn't be missing

 

Sometimes you gotta burn some bridges just to create some distance

I know that I control my thoughts and I should stop reminiscing

 

\- I hate u I love u

Gnash

 

* * *

  

Yuuri lifted the teal cup to his lips the warm smell of chocolate mixed with coffee wafting up to his nose. He looked up from the newspaper in his hands momentarily, watching Viktor swing gently from side to side humming. He was cooking something or other, still, that bright pink apron against his pyjamas looked hilarious. Yuuri chuckled gently to himself while placing his cup of coffee back down onto the table. Viktor looked up and out the window, letting out a little gasp.

"It's raining!" He shrieked, hurriedly wiping his hands on his apron and making his way towards the back door, "I'd better get the clothes in before they all get wet."

Yuuri rolled his eyes, placed his newspaper down on the table gently, standing up and shuffling over to the stove to turn it off. Of course, he would forget to turn the stove off and inevitably burn the house down. 

Yuuri glanced out the window, it was really pouring, maybe he'd need some help? He grabbed his raincoat, shrugging it onto his shoulders as he pushed the back door open. He closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath of the fresh air.

Yuuri reeled, his nose assaulted by the heavy smell in the air, automatically stumbling back he found himself backed against a wall. His eyes cracked open, his breath becoming ragged as his pupils blown wide, nearly drowning his chocolate irises in black. His breaths came out in heaves as his eyes focused in front of him. First on his hands, held in a white-knuckled grip, was his own handgun, held at eye level. His gaze drifted to the figure at the other end of the barrel. A scarlet rain poured mercilessly down from the blackened sky, the sheer darkness still unable to cloak the sheen of silver hair.

Viktor stood amongst a pile of corpses, the bloody rain turning the green grass red as it fell past him, his crisp white shirt remaining untouched. His face was covered with a white mask, a simplistic smile covering his expression. Yuuri's eyes flickered downwards, pinpointing on a small red dot centred in the man's chest, slowly spreading outwards. Viktor's gun slipped from his fingers, clattering to the ground as the man himself fell to his knees. He collapsed face first into a bright red earth, his body joining the other corpses on the ground. 

"Viktor!" Yuuri cried, trying to take a step forward, he felt his legs chained in place.

He looked down. A woman held a death grip on his ankles, her mouth opening and closing. Her muddled brown eyes drilled into his own, her blood matted black locks tumbling over his boots.

"Y...Yuuri..." She gurgled.

"M...Mari," he choked.

Yuuri's eyes flung open as he sat up, his sheets drenched in sweat.

"That was...fucked up," Yuuri huffed, collapsing back down into the bed, his chest heaving, a hand clutching a bunch of his shirt over the new hole in his chest. 

What the hell was that supposed to be? He lifted his hand in the darkness, barely able to make out the shadows of his hand. It was so vivid, so real. He hadn't had a dream about Mari in ages, and Viktor had been there too. Yuuri's hand tremored. He shot Viktor. No, it was just a dream. Viktor wasn't dead. Well, he probably wasn't dead. What was it all supposed to mean? 

He sat up slowly, glancing around the dark hospital room as he tried to calm his breath. Yuuri squinted pointlessly at the clock on the far wall. He couldn't see without his glasses and even if he was wearing them he wouldn't be able to see anything because it was so goddamn dark. He reached for the lamp on his bedside. It probably wasn't that late. Yuuri flinched at yelling in the hallway, that seemed to be what had woken him up. Who was making such a ruckus in the hospital at this hour? As the door to his room flew open Yuuri reached to where his guns were usually holstered. Of course, nothing, he gripped futilely at the thin fabric of the hospital gown. A man in a suit, a fedora pulled low over his forehead, dragged a struggling nurse into the room, pressing a gun to her forehead. A balaclava hid this face, but not his clear Italian accent.

"You'd be Mr Katsuki, right?" The man chuckled, tightening his iron grip on the nurse's whimpering mouth.

"Depends on who's asking?" Yuuri shot back, stalling as his eyes darted across the room, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon.

"You'll be coming with me. Unless you want this pretty young lady's brains to become part of the wallpaper." He hissed, digging the gun into the woman's hair.

"Woah, slow down." Yuuri raised his hands into the air. "I'll cooperate."

Yuuri's heart hammered in his chest, a single bullet of sweat rolling down the side of his head. It was futile, reaching for anything that he could even contemplate to use as a weapon would be more than enough time for the man to pull the trigger.

 

* * *

 

 

Phichit trudged up the steps of the apartment block and to the door of his apartment, groaning as he fumbled and dropped his keys. At the sound of the door opposite to his own apartment opening, he looked up to greet his neighbour.

"Good evening, Phichit." The woman called, leaning against her door frame.

"Ah, hey Cassandra." Phichit sighed, reaching down to scrape his keys off the concrete floor.

"I don't mean to be nosy or anything, but earlier a guy dropped by and let himself in. He was looking for Yuuri. He said he had a spare key and when I came home from work he was just letting himself out. Be careful, you know how the landlord is about spare keys."

"What? Spare key? I could've sworn..." Phichit mumbled, turning to face Cassandra fully.

"He was European, had an Italian accent-"

Phichit's mouth fell open as he pushed the door open hurriedly, rushing inside.

"Phichit? Is everything okay?"

"Fuck fuck fucking shit. Oh fuck. Nothing is fucking okay." Phichit screeched as he looked about their trashed apartment. 

Cassandra followed him into the apartment, stopping short outside the kitchen she choked, "Oh shit. I should call the police."

"I'll do it. But I need you to start jotting down what that guy looked like. Like, right now." Phichit tossed the woman a notepad and pen before striding to the kitchen table.

His eyes widened, laid neatly on the table was Yuuri's hospital admission papers. 

"You said he was looking for Yuuri?" Phichit questioned as he tore his phone out of his pocket, punching speed dial and holding the phone to his ear.

"Yeah...Phichit what's going on?" She stuttered, looking clearly distressed.

Phichit turned from the woman as the call connected.

"Chulanont?" The captain's voice grumbled.

"Are you with Yuuri?"

"No? I was just headed over now, why? Did you forget something?"

"Fuck. No. I got home and our place has been trashed and my neighbour said it was a guy with an Italian accent who was looking for Yuuri."

"Oh shit."

"Yeah, they found the hospital papers. They're after Yuuri!"

"I'm headed there right now!" Celestino barked over the muffled sound of sirens being switched on.

 

When Celestino arrived the hospital was a mess. A few officers had already arrived on the scene and were sitting in the lobby questioning pale-looking staff. Smith stepped up to the captain.

"You heard, Captain?" He asked, his mouth pulled into a taut line.

"Where's Yuuri?"

"A guy came in and took him."

"Same guy that trashed his place half an hour ago, probably." Celestino rasped, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth.

He felt sick.

"We're gonna bring him back, safe and sound," Smith reassured, struggling to keep his own voice even.

 

A little over ten minutes later, Phichit arrived on the scene. Celestino watched as he glanced around in a mixture of hope and terror.

"Captain?!" Phichit called out from across the room, jogging over to meet him.

Celestino sighed, what was he supposed to say?

"Celestino? Where's Yuuri?"

"I'm sorry Phichit..."

"Fuck!" Phichit roared, slamming his fist against the wall before turning and stalking down one of the corridors.

"Chulanont? Phichit, please!" Celestino called after him, quickening his pace as the Thai man disappeared around a corner. 

Celestino turned the corner, half expecting Phichit to be sprinting away by now. Instead, the younger man sat on the floor, knees tucked up against his chest, in what looked like an attempt to become as small as possible.

"Phichit," Celestino murmured, "please go home and get some sleep. Staying here isn't helping anybody."

Phichit raised his head, a numb expression of resignation on his face. "Celestino, what am I supposed to tell Minako? Hey, sorry, I lost your godson?"Phichit laughed bitterly,

"It wasn't your fault. Tell her the truth." Celestino sighed, "maybe wait for a little till we get a better grip on what's happening."

For a while Phichit remained silent, eventually choosing to stand and brush himself off.

"Do you need a place to stay? It's not exactly safe to stay at your trashed apartment." 

"It's fine. I've got somewhere else in mind."

"Do you need a ride?"

"No, really, I'm alright."

"Are you s-"

"Go home, Celestino." Phichit sighed.

"O...okay."

The two left the hospital in a grim silence, the only sound between them was the quiet patter of their shoes against the sterile linoleum floor.

 

Phichit pulled the key out of the ignition, turning to look out the window at the softly lit apartment. It hadn't been so long since he'd last been at Minako's place. They were supposed to have family dinners once a month and occasionally he got invited too. He stepped out of the car, pulling his jacket closer around his shoulders. It was by no means, a cool night, but Phichit felt frozen to the core. He waited numbly outside, barely noticing when the door was flung open, a burst of warm air flowing outwards. The look of surprise that crossed the older woman's face quickly turned to a wide grin.

"Phichit? What brings you here? I was going to visit Yuuri tomorrow." She chirped, pushing a few brown bangs out of her face.

"I'm sorry," Phichit choked, not bothering to stem the tears bubbling down his cheeks.

He stumbled forward into her arms, burying his face in the crook of her shoulder, he sobbed.

"Shhh, it's okay. Just, breathe." She murmured, stroking his back.

"They took Yuuri. They took him right under our noses. I should've been able to do something. I should've been there." Phichit wailed, clutching Minako's body.

"Who took Yuuri?" Minako's voice shook.

"The mafia." Phichit choked out. 

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri twisted in his bindings, his expression fixed in a glare.

"Well aren't you a lucky bastard." His captor grumbled, leaning on a table a few metres away.

"Lucky? Care to tell me why I've been kidnapped?" Yuuri shot back.

"I'll be the one asking the questions, detective. So tell me, why does our boss want to talk to you?"

Yuuri scoffed, "you mean you don't know?" He smirked.

"I don't think you quite understand the position that you're in."

"I'm not telling you shit!" Yuuri hissed.

"Oh, you'll definitely talk."

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Yuuri's head. This was bad, really bad.

 

Viktor strode down the empty corridor, the heels of his shoes clicking quietly against the concrete. He passed into a room full of idle men chatting quietly, a few games of card happening towards the back of the room. He glanced through one of the windows which opened to the main floor of the warehouse, his blood running cold. He pressed his face against the glass. He was imagining, hallucinating, something surely. If he was seeing right, he remembered those soft raven locks, the hospital gown should be enough of a giveaway. What the hell was Yuuri doing here?!

"Could you," Viktor muttered, gesturing vaguely at a few men nearby, "go grab that guy who's interrogating the fresh meat."

"Uh, okay." One of the men slid his phone back into his pocket, stood and made his way to the adjoining door.

He shoved the door open, cringing as it let out a shriek of defiance.

"Oi, Costa!" He gestured the man to come closer.

Costa scowled, reaching out and yanking Yuuri's blindfold back down over his eyes.

 

Viktor waited till Costa was in the room, glaring expectantly.

"Is that who I think it is?" Viktor smiled, the edge of his lip twitching.

"Some hot shot detective. Been quite the menace around the city."

"Why is he here?" He asked, Costa glaring back at him down his nose.

"Orders from Crispino."

"Huh. Thought you didn't take orders from her?"

"I would rather take orders from her than some pretty-boy Russian bastard." Costa snorted, grinning at a few of his subordinates standing awkwardly to the side.

"Oh, so that's how it is." Viktor hissed, taking a step closer to the sneering man. "If I were you I'd put him back in the van and drive him back to the hospital." 

"Why should I? Maybe if you suck my-"

Viktor yanked him closer by the collar, holding their faces a bare inch apart. 

"Listen here. If you think that the cops won't hunt you down after you lay a finger on one of their own, you're wrong."

"This is about you and your ego. We both know you and that cop were something special. Playing favourites, Nikiforov? Maybe if I slap him around a little he'll spill." He spat back.

Viktor's scowl faded and was rapidly with replaced with an ear to ear grin. Everybody in the room froze, hairs rising up on their arms as the temperature of the room dropped.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Your Japanese bitc-" Costa started, halting as the other man pulled a gun out from inside his jacket.

"Oh dear," Viktor chuckled, weighing the gun in a loose grip, "you're a fucking stupid one aren't you?"

Costa pulled a forced smile, taking half a step back.

"L...let's talk about this!" 

"No one." Viktor snarled, cocking his gun.

"Please, I was joking!"

"Lays a finger." Viktor continued, pointing the gun towards the ground and pulling the trigger with a grim smile.

The man dropped to the ground with a train of expletives, clutching his foot.

"On the detective." Viktor pulled the trigger again, shooting the poor soul in his other foot.

The man crumpled on the floor in a ball, blood smearing across the otherwise pristine concrete. The other men in the room were frozen in a mixture of shock and terror, no one seemed to be interested in moving anytime soon either.

"Agreed?" Viktor asked, squatting down to the crying man, he held out his hand as if offering a handshake.

"Crazy fucking bastard," Costa howled, clutching at his feet.

"Agreed?" Viktor repeated, the words forced out like an order than a question.

The man groaned, reaching out shakily with a bloody hand to clasp Viktor's. Viktor smiled, "right then. Now that we have that cleared up," Viktor turned to the closest pair of men.

The two glanced at each other and paled. 

"You two," Viktor muttered, digging through the pockets of his suit jacket and pulling out a few items. "Take this." He grumbled, shrugging his jacket off and holding it out to them.

"S...sorry?" One stuttered, stepping forward to take it from him.

"Go put this on the hostage and drive him back out to the main road. That should be far enough." Viktor gestured towards the connecting room where Yuuri was held before turning and walking off towards the main part of the compound.

 

Yuuri flinched at the sound of doors banging open once again, this time, accompanied by two new voices. He was sure he heard gunshots and yelling. What the hell was going on? The footsteps padded closer. One roughly grabbed his arm, the clinking of a key unlocking the cuffs filling the otherwise silent room. Honestly, it was overkill. They'd tied Yuuri's arms together and cuffed him to the chair.

"Stand up." The man grumbled, tugging on Yuuri's arm.

Yuuri took a deep breath as he stood, wherever the hell they were taking him it probably wasn't good, but he was helpless. Yuuri gritted his teeth, whatever they wanted to hear, he wasn't going to tell them. 

"Come on, move." The man grunted, shoving Yuuri.

Yuuri shuffled along with their guidance, his ears attuned to every noise. The sound of a button being pushed, the sound of roller doors opening. Were they going outside? Yuuri cringed internally as his feet left the smooth concrete and passed onto spiky gravel, the same way they'd come in. 

 

Viktor leant against the window frame, watching silently as the men loaded Yuuri into the van. He watched until they disappeared from view, his thoughts moving back to what had just happened. 

"Me? Playing favourites... with a cop?" Viktor scoffed to himself, "I'm just doing Yuuri a favour."

 

* * *

  

 

 

Detroit, December 1993 

 

Viktor curled closer inside his bed, clutching his poodle stuff toy closer to his chest. Viktor flinched at the sound of smashing dishes piercing the momentary silence.

"Maybe if you'd stop drinking and gambling we could afford to send him to preschool. A police station is no place for a five-year-old to be raised!" His mother wailed, her voice quavering.

"Are you telling me how to raise my son?!" His father boomed followed by the sound of feet storming across the living room.

More yelling echoed through the house, followed by a pained cry. Viktor buried his head under his pillow, clamping it around his ears till all he could hear was his own little hammering heart. He was five years old today.

 

A little under an hour later his mother pushed his door open, "Vitya. Wake up. Vitya, darling." She cooed, pushing his shoulder gently.

Viktor yawned and stretched, he was supposed to be asleep after all. He looked up at his mother, his eyes focusing on the way her features contorted in the slightest ways each time she spoke. He reached out to brush his fingers through a few of her silver locks. The most beautiful make-up could never make the bruises, made every day, go away. 

"Vitya?"

"Mama." He murmured, rubbing his eyes. He hoped his eyes weren't still red.

"Come on. Up you get, you're going with papa again today."

Viktor nodded.

 

Ten minutes later he sat quietly at the table, shovelling cereal as fast as he could into his mouth. His father sat opposite, a newspaper held loosely in one hand, a mug of coffee in the other.

"You done yet, buddy?" He mumbled, setting the mug down.

"Yesh."

"Right. Let's go." He stood, pushing his chair in and making his way towards the coat hanger.

Viktor stumbled off his chair, pausing to grab his backpack off the kitchen bench, "mamochka?" Viktor called, pausing by the door and peering back into the darkness of the hallway. 

"Come on, let's go." His father grumbled, shrugging his police jacket on.

"Oh, are you two heading off?" Anna called, dashing out from her bedroom.

"Bye, Mama." Viktor murmured, offering his cheek as his mother swooped in, crushing him with a hug and kisses.

"Have a good day, alright baby?" She pressed a hand to his cheek, "be a good boy, you won't cause any trouble, will you?"

"Yes, mama."

"You too, Robert." She muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Right, let's go." His father grunted, pulling Viktor away.

 

Viktor sighed and pushed the chair around once again, counting quietly in his head till he came to a stop once more. The police station was boring.

"Viktor you stay put here, yeah? Marisia will be here any minute." His father murmured, taking his coat off and wrapping it around the boy's small shoulders. 

Viktor pulled the jacket around his shoulders, a small frown on his face, "Okay, papa."

The door creaked open, a small brunette peeking into the room.

"Hi Viktor, sorry I'm late. I was just finishing a few things up." Marisia chirped, opening the door fully and stepping in.

"Hey." Robert murmured, reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey yourself," she smiled, "how was your weekend?"

"Haha, alright, didn't do much, you?" Robert chuckled.

"Lieutenant Ivanekov?" Another man popped his head into the room, causing Robert and Marisia to jerk away from each other.

"Ah, yes?"

"The captain wants to speak to you...oh, hey Viktor." The man muttered, smiling and waving at the boy.

"Right. You have fun with Marisia, little man." Viktor's father sighed, ruffling the boy's hair.

The two men left the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Mmm, so, Viktor, how are you? What's been happening? What'd you do over the weekend?" Marisia chirped, collapsing into a chair beside Viktor.

"Today is my birthday." He murmured.

"Wow, really? You're turning five, right? Wow... Are you doing anything to celebrate?" 

"Uh, no. I don't think so."

"Oh, that's too bad. Why not?"

"My parents," Viktor looked down at the jacket, fiddling with the cuffs, "they're both busy."

"I see." She murmured, frowning.

Viktor stared down, his hands clasped together in his laps.

"Viktor," she started, placing a soft hand on his shoulder, "you know why your pa is busy right? He's a police officer."

"Yeah, I know."

"He's a hero, you know?" She reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"A hero?" Viktor echoed, raising his eyes to look at the woman.

She smiled warmly, "yeah, he goes out and he gets the bad guys." She grinned, gesturing wildly.

"People that hurt other people. What are they then?" Viktor asked.

"Monsters, Viktor. Only monsters hurt other people on purpose."

Viktor paused, turning his hands over to look at the lines running across his palms. "Can heroes be monsters then?"

Marisia froze, her eyes searching the younger boy's blue orbs.

"Viktor." She started, "is this about your dad?"

He nodded mutely, his nails digging into his arm.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone else about this." She whispered, her grip on his shoulder tightening.

Viktor looked up, "promise?"

"Yeah. Promise me?"

"Okay..."

"Your pa isn't a bad person, okay Viktor? It's just, something you don't have to worry about. It's between your mum and your dad. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Your dad is a very good policeman, a lot of people respect him, so please, don't tell anyone. It can be our little secret."

Viktor shrugged the jacket off, letting it fall to the ground beside him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viktor T - T
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed that, comments are appreciated as usual. Thank you so much to everyone that commented on the last chapter! 
> 
> Those of you who've got sharp eyes might've noticed that I've changed the chapter numbers from 20 to 25. I had this issue when i started, I wasn't sure how long this is going to be but I'm quite sure that I won't be able to finish in 20. So we'll see how we're going when I get to 25. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! See you again next week <333


	14. Washington DC: 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter: Viktor is shocked to find Yuuri is taken by the Italian Mafia. Plus: Viktor's 5th Birthday down at the precinct.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More back story, sorry, not sorry. You wanted to know what happened in DC? Well, here it is. Hope you enjoy ; D

 He's something mystical in coloured lights

 

So far from typical, but take my advice

Before you play with fire, do think twice

And if you get burned, don't be surprised

 

\- Sugar

Robin Schulz

 

* * *

 

 

Detroit 2017 (Present time)

 

Viktor sighed as he scrubbed his hands under the bubbling warmth of the tap. He patted his hands dry against a towel, flinching when his phone suddenly vibrated against the table. He lodged the phone between his ear and shoulder as he continued to dry his hands.

"Hello?" Viktor mumbled.

"I heard you needed my services."

"Josef, it's been ages!"

"It has been a while, I heard from Chris that you were in a little bit of a pickle."

"Chris huh? I should call him...Anyhoo, you've got your men on the target?"

"At your request."

"Then do me a favour-"

"What you've done for the young master Chris was payment enough for any favour."

Viktor smiled gently, anything for a friend. "If you insist."

"So, what do you need finished? Or should I say whom?"

Viktor chuckled, "for once, I want you to protect someone rather than kill them. I need your team to make sure that the target is not harmed and preferably reaches the hands of the police as soon as possible. And without injury, of course."

"Your wish is my command, Mr Nikiforov."

The beeping of another incoming call interrupted Viktor's train of thought. 

"I'm sorry, it seems someone else needs my attention. If all goes well I shouldn't be hearing from you soon, no?"

"No, have a good evening."

"You too." Viktor switched the call over. God, he was popular tonight.

"Hello?" 

"It's Yakov."

"Yakov my old friend! So nice to hear from you, I'm glad you got my message." Viktor chirped.

"Cut the crap, Vitya."

"I see old age hasn't affected your sharp tongue."

"It's only been, what, less than a year since the last time you saw me."

"Yes, but that bald spot sure grows every day. I can tell."

"Enough of your antics," the older man sighed, "I heard you escaped the police."

"I did."

"You're working with the Italians?"

"Ferrari's subgroup, to be specific."

"Let me guess, they want independence from the Crispino household."

"Yes."

Yakov let out a sigh, letting silence fill their conversation.

"Viktor?"

"Yes?"

"It's not like you to start a battle for no reason. And I know it is not like you to start listening to me now, but when will this one man war be enough?"

"Oh Yakov, I'm not going to stop until-"

"All that Sara Crispino has is ashes? Don't you think you've lost enough already, Vitya?" Yakov pleaded.

Viktor paused, his lips drawn into a thin line. "I'm sorry, about Mila. I know she was like a daughter to you."

"I couldn't have stopped her even if I wanted to. She made her own decisions."

"And these are mine."

"Then you understand that this is your war. The elder Crispino doesn't want much to do with his niece's drama either, so we can agree on that."

"So all is well in Europe then, business as usual?"

"Da."

Another silence.

"I can help you get out of the States, Vitya. Just say the words."

"I'm far from done, Yakov. Thank you for the offer though."

"You know I won't be able to bring you back so easily, not after your stint with the police. Some won't be happy to keep you around."

"It's not like I'm hunting the Bratva here," Viktor laughed.

"I could still use you Vitya, whether others approve or not."

"Nice to know I'm needed."

"I'll see you around, Vitya."

"Is that your way of telling me not to die?"

"War is a fool's wish, Vitya."

Viktor sighed into the silence. “You’re the only Pakhan for me, Yakov.”

 

He glanced up, the mirror reflecting an amused looking Antonio Ferrari standing behind him.

"I heard you shot one of my men." Antonio mused.

For a while the two men stared at each other, each weighing the other in their minds. The two of them, whilst far apart in age, but probably in experience, had very similar roles in their organisations. They were leaders.

"I did." Viktor mused, running his fingers along the etchings in Yuuri's gun. 

That was odd, it was a name. Viktor twisted his wrist to read, Mari Katsuki.

"I'm sure you had your reasons. Hmm, who's gun is that?" He paused, smiling nostalgically, "from the look on your face, a lover, or an enemy."

Viktor jerked his head up to stare at the older man. "How'd you-"

"I may be an old man, but I am not stupid. So what is it?"

"Well, both, I guess."

"Oho, didn't take you for that kind of man, Mr Nikiforov. What is the word for this? Risk taker?"

Viktor flushed, what the hell was he? A hormone-fuelled teenager? He coughed, covering his face.

"You know, I didn't believe people when they said you were mad, even by Russian standards."

"There's a Russian standard?" Viktor raised an eyebrow.

"I remember when I was your age. All fired up."

Viktor watched the old man nostalgically. "Do you have any children, Antonio?"

"No, it's an old dream that went with my age."

"Oh..."

"Still, a word of advice from this old man. Don't play with fire unless you want to get burnt." He smiled fondly, "women are dangerous, you know."

Viktor nodded as seriously as he could while laughing inwardly. He wondered how Ferrari would feel if the 'woman' on his mind was a man.

"I know."

"Oh, so it's a dangerous woman?"

"Deadly." Viktor chirped.

"Ah, when I was young."

"He's...I mean she's beautiful too. Silky black hair, a stunning smile."

"Asia?"

"Ah, yeah. Japanese."

"Yakuza?"

Viktor laughed, "maybe, once upon a time."

"How'd you meet? Business?"

"Kind of." Viktor laughed, "at least that's part of the story."

 

* * *

  

 

Washington DC, Late 2015

 

Viktor suppressed a yawn, earning an elbow to the ribs from Georgi.

"Pay attention, Vitya."

"Da, leave me alone."

The Korean man opposite scowled, "is there a problem, Mr Nikiforov?"

"Oh no, no, Mr Lee, please, continue. I see no issues with the trade so far." 

As Seung-Gil Lee continued, Viktor sighed and retreated back into his own mind. Boring. Trade negotiations always ended exactly the way he wanted. You couldn't really call them negotiations. 

 

After more than an hour, most of the meeting was over, everyone was taking a recess to figure everything out and Viktor was tasked with taking the details of deal to Yakov, the Pakhan. It wasn't really necessary, but he needed an excuse before he could come back with 'concessions' didn't he? He had to at least pretend he made a phone call to Yakov half way across the globe. That's a lie. Yakov is right here in the States at this very moment, probably handling something more important. Viktor shuffled out to the bar, a drink sounded like a good idea. Viktor stood by the bar, the bartender glancing over at him before finishing his exchange with another bartender. 

"I'll have-"

"Water," Georgi grumbled, clamping a hand down on Viktor's shoulder.

The bartender paused, eyes flickering between an exasperated looking Viktor and a visibly impatient Georgi.

"You're kidding me right?"

"You can drink after we're done."

"Ah, you pain me, Georgi!" Viktor whined, accepting a glass of water from the bartender.

"You'll thank me when your head isn't mounted on a plate in Yakov's living room."

Viktor raised the glass in a mock toast, "thank you, to my little always-fucking-sober good friend."

"Very funny." Georgi dead-panned, watching as Viktor tipped the entire glass back.

Viktor chuckled, his eyes slipping past Georgi for a moment to a figure slumped against the benchtop, his head in his hands. Viktor tilted his head to a side to get a better look. A depressed looking Asian guy, tough time at work probably. His tousled, yet soft looking, black locks shifted a little to reveal a pair of chocolate eyes.

"Viktor?" Georgi hissed, snapping his fingers centimetres in front of Viktor's face.

"Uh, yep?"

"Don't yep me. You've spaced out for an entire minute."

"Sorry, the water is getting to me." Viktor teased, putting the glass back down on the bench and striding away.

"Back to business?" Georgi asked, following briskly.

"Yep."

 

It was over, finally. Viktor sighed and loosened his tie. Finally, freedom. The Koreans were gone and only Georgi and a few of Viktor's men hung back.

"Georgi, you'd better get out of here before I do something that you'll have to explain to Yakov."

"How does Feltsman deal with you? How do I deal with you?" Georgi groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You don't." Viktor grinned.

"Georgi? Viktor?" A voice called as a blonde man stumbled out of the crowd of bodies on the dance floor. 

"Chris!" Viktor chirped, enveloping his friend in a bear hug.

"Alright you big baby," Chris slurred, shaking a half empty bottle of champagne, "let's get you drinking. You're missing a hell of a party."

"We sure can see that." Georgi murmured, looking the younger man up and down.

Chris was inexplicably stripped down to his underwear.

"Off you go, Georgi. And Chris, have you been pole dancing? Again?" Viktor muttered, limping awkwardly towards the dance floor with his friend draped across him.

"Oh, he's amazing. Beautiful little thing. You've got to see him. An amateur who can actually compete with the staff."

"An amateur? Oh please, like anyone is better than your thirsty ass..." Viktor trailed off mid-sentence, looking up, his eyes glued into the distance.

"Viktor?" Chris turned, trying to identify what his friend was so immersed in. "Ah, yes, you can see can you not?"

 

A black haired man smirked, holding up an open bottle of champagne as his legs gripped the pole. He was still wearing his shirt but that wouldn't cover those... killer thighs. This was a joke. This had to be a joke, it was that guy from before, the one that looked dead. And now he was turning, flipping, grinding...

 

"Viktor you're drooling." Chris laughed.

"W...what? I'm not." Viktor wiped his chin.

"He's good right?"

"I...I guess." Viktor turned, trying to bury the mad blush rising to his cheeks.

Who the fuck in their right mind would suddenly start pole dancing? Other than Chris that is.

"Oh, oh, looks like he's coming over here. Viktor, look sharp!"

"W...what?" Viktor stuttered, whipping around to see the raven-haired man part the crowd, both women and men still staring.

"Chris-kun!" He slurred, dragging his body over to the pair.

"Japanese?" Viktor murmured under his breath, watching as the man took another swig from the champagne bottle.

"I guess," Chris replied, gesturing for the stranger to pass the bottle.

He rolled his eyes, shoving the bottle into Chris' chest and turning to Viktor. He wrapped an arm around Viktor's neck, yanking his tie to get the man closer.

"Viktor...Nikiforov." He whispered into Viktor's ear, pulling back and smirking.

Viktor froze, no one here except Chris and the Koreans, who've already gone home, should know who he is.

Chris whistled, "well, I'll leave you two to it then." He raised the bottle with a wink before sauntering back to the dance floor.

"Who the hell are you? How do you know my name?" Viktor hissed.

"Mmm, Yuuri Katsuki. Everyone in my profession knows who you are. I have so many drawings, you know. I know exactly what this pretty little face should look like." Yuuri released the man from his grip, opting to grab his wrist and pull him towards the dance floor.

"Your profession?" Viktor remained rooted in the place.

Yuuri scoffed, "Special Agent Katsuki, DEA, Vitya." Yuuri turned crushing their bodies together but holding their faces a bare inch apart. "And I might just have to arrest you if you won't dance with me."

"DE-" Viktor barely had time to finish his sentence as Yuuri crushed their lips together.

Viktor laced a few fingers through the soft black locks he'd seen earlier, allowing himself to drown in the sensation. Yuuri pulled back, a few fingers lingering against the Russian's jaw. As he stared into the other man's eyes, it occurred to Viktor that he should have a problem with this, that he should keep his guard up. But realistically, he couldn't really bring himself to give a shit in this moment.

"O...one more thing, Viktor."

Viktor nodded mutely, he was pretty sure his heart should've exploded by now.

"If you ever, ever, come to my hometown, I will give you fucking hell. You hear me?"

Viktor smirked, "was that a challenge?"

"Maybe. But maybe you should shut up and dance with me."

"Sounds like a plan."

Yuuri took his hand, this time gently tugging him into the crowd. As their bodies moved in unison, their hearts and breath as one, it would've also been possible to think that they had been alone on that dance floor.

 

After countless drinks and many hours of dancing, the club was closing. Chris smiled fondly at the two very stupid and probably very drunk lovebirds still on the dance floor. The place was supposed to be closing but no one had the goddamn nerve to tell the Mafia boss and his new fixation to leave. Seriously they were dancing to some kind of slow waltz with absolutely no music but it was clear to anyone that they were in a world of their own, with their own music and their own dance floor. Chris nearly burst out laughing as Yuuri attempted to do an underarm turn whilst trying to lose as little contact as humanly possible. And well, that just ended up with the two of them being tangled together, not that either of them were bothered by that. Whatever song they were both singing in their heads it seemed to come to an end as Yuuri lowered Viktor into a dip, the two grinning from ear to ear before promptly collapsing into a laughing heap on the ground. Chris sauntered over, watching as the two just stared into each other's eyes, Yuuri's head propped up on his elbow.

Chris coughed, "right, time to go home, you two."

Yuuri turned his head to glare at Chris, grunting something Japanese at the man.

"Shh, kotyenok," Viktor leant up and pressed his lips to Yuuri's ear, whispering something Chris probably wouldn't have wanted to hear anyway from Yuuri's smirk.

The three piled into a taxi for the ride back to their hotel, to Chris' mild discomfort, the two could not be untangled. He laughed nervously at the pair's obvious displays, he doubted either of them would be this comfortable if they weren't drunk off their asses, but hey, what's the harm in asking?

"You two aren't too drunk that you're going to do something you regret right?"

Viktor scoffed, running his fingers through Yuuri's locks.

"Regrets, are a social construct, Chris," Yuuri mumbled, shuffling closer to Viktor's side, burying his face in the crook of his shoulder.

Chris shrugged, seemed alright. 

 

As the three got out of the elevator, Viktor awkwardly digging his keycard out of his pocket with Yuuri draped across his shoulder, Chris walked ahead of them. As he came to his own room he got out his card, flinching at a loud WHUMPF behind him. Chris turned, tempted to let out an exasperated sigh as he watched the two.

 

Yuuri had Viktor's back pinned against the door, Viktor doing something between struggling to get his arms around Yuuri and trying to shove him off.

"Y...Yuuri I need to open the d...door." Viktor whimpered, waving the door card helplessly. 

Yuuri yanked the card out of his hand, his lips not leaving the other man's throat for a second, swiped the card and pushed the door open, sending Viktor stumbling back.

"Goodnight Chris," Yuuri turned and winked, slamming the door closed behind him.

"Bit off more than you can chew, didn't you, Viktor?" Chris snickered, opening the door to his own room.

 

The next morning...

 

Viktor yawned and cringed. He was sore, if he had a choice he probably wouldn't have left Yuuri alone in bed, but he told Chris they'd have breakfast together before he had to fly out.

"Someone looks like they had fun last night," Chris called from his table at the back of the dining room.

It was like any ordinary hotel breakfast buffet, eggs, sausages, toast. Viktor rolled his eyes at his friend, picking up a few hard boiled eggs and toast on his way over to his friend.

"Good morning to you too."

"Hey, no need to give me that tone. I was just telling you the truth."

Viktor stuffed his mouth with the toast, anything he said was going to be fuel for Chris to tease him with.

"So, how was it?"

"Chris, we're not teenagers anymore. Best friends do not need to have a discussion every time-"

"So it was bomb then?"

Viktor paused, eyeing his friend quietly. "Bomb." He affirmed quietly.

"Care to share then?" Chris waggled an eyebrow suggestively.

Viktor chuckled, "hey, I'm trying to have breakfast here."

"Top or bottom?"

"Breakfast, Chris!"

Chris rolled his eyes and pouted, shoving another spoonful of cereal into his mouth and crossing his arms.

"Well, I've been debating whether I should tell you this..."

Chris' eyes lit up as he leant forwards, his elbows propped on the table.

"He's a cop."

Chris dropped his spoon, raising a few eyes across the dining room. "Sorry, could you repeat that? I don't think I heard you right."

"He's...a cop. DEA to be more specific." Viktor muttered, stabbing the loose eggs shells on his plate.

"D.E fucking A?" Chris rasped, "you're fucking with me right?"

"Nope."

"Viktor?! What the hell is wrong with you? You slept with a cop! I know you hate having Georgi around but I really think you need a good dose of reality right now. I don't even live in this country and I know what the DEA is."

"Oh come on, Chris. I could use a contact in the DEA."

"Do you sleep with all your prospective business partners? Or was that just me?" Chris hissed, dragging a hand through his hair. 

"Are you still being salty about that?" Viktor sighed, rolling his eyes.

"If you're referring to us sleeping together and me having a one-sided teenage crush on you? No." Chris grumbled.

"What's the issue then?"

"How the hell are you so freaking calm about this? When did you find out?"

"Fairly early last night."

"YOU KNOWINGLY SLEPT WITH A COP?" Chris screeched. "What's the issue then?" He parroted.

"I guess."

"Don't fucking guess! We are going back to your room and figuring this out right now. Did you just leave him in your room?"

"Breakfast first Chris, and yes."

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god."

"Calm down, drama queen."

"No, fuck you. Hurry up and eat your goddamn toast."

Viktor shrugged, popping the rest of the toast into his mouth. "Let's go then."

 

Meanwhile...

 

Yuuri groaned and clutched his head, the incessant sound of a doorbell bouncing around inside his already shattering skull. 

"Just a minute!" Yuuri groaned, rolling out of bed...and face first into the ground. 

He reached blindly for his glasses where his bedside table should've been. Wait a second. Yuuri raised his head, squinting blindly. That wasn't right, all the walls were white, a really bright, hotel-like white. Yuuri scrambled to his feet, nearly toppling back to the ground in dizziness.  He clutched his stomach as a wave of nausea rolled over him. Yuuri froze, his hand was pressed against his naked belly which meant...he was completely... fucking... naked. Yuuri stumbled towards the mirror and yep, he could see the flabs. Yuuri's eyes widened as he stepped back, his eyes focusing beyond his reflection, to the stunning (if he could see it) expanse of DC stretch out before him in the early hours of the morning. 

"It must be around 8:00 then." Yuuri murmured to himself.

Yuuri turned back and squinted into the room, the sound of someone rapidly knocking filling the space once again. Yuuri strode across the room, the bathroom would have a bathrobe or something, right?

"Fuck," Yuuri hissed as he tripped, sending himself flying onto the bathroom floor and taking a bathrobe hanging off a hook with him. "At least I got the bathrobe..."

"I'm coming!" Yuuri called again, shifting to his feet and pulling the robe over his shoulders.

He limped over to the door, pulling it open with a huff.

"Sorry, hi, how can I help you?" Yuuri sighed, squinting at the person standing in front of him. "Housekeeping?"

"I'm sorry if I woke you up."

Yuuri tilted his head to a side and rubbed his eyes. "Do you need something?"

"Well..." the woman shifted from foot to foot, "I thought I should warn you, this floor is frequented by the Russian mafia you know. So you should...get out of here while you can. You don't look like one of em so..."

Yuuri blinked, that was a joke, right? Some mad conspiracy theory concocted by the hotel staff, right? "Well, thank you for the warning," Yuuri muttered as he closed the door, collapsing back against it once it was closed.

That's crazy. The mafia? Here? Yuuri's incredulous expression melted into a look of absolute horror. He scrambled to the bedroom. That wasn't right. He woke up butt naked, alone, in a queen-sized bed. One night stand? Yuuri's eyes focused on a blurry blue smudge on the pillow, he waddled over to the bed, a card? Yuuri flipped it over, moving the card as close to his face as possible without competing losing focus of the tiny, delicately inked words.

 

"Good Morning Detective,

 

Hope you had pleasant dreams. I went to breakfast with an associate, I should be back shortly."

 

Yuuri hummed, who the hell uses the word associate in this day and age? The mafia, that's who. Yuuri rolled his eyes, standing, he made his way towards the walk in wardrobe. This was one hell of a hotel suite. Yuuri froze, the racks were lined with expensive feeling fabrics, more than half of which were suits, from what he could make out. 

Okay, he's rich and probably a businessman, so what?

"Think, Yuuri! What would the mafia have in their room?" He muttered to himself, pacing. "Guns!" Yuuri cried, "but where?"

Yuuri turned and walked back towards the bed.

"I mean, a stupid place would be to hide them under the bed."

Yuuri checked anyway. Sure enough, as Yuuri patted around blindly under the bed his fingers grazed something cold and smooth. He pulled it out, eyeing the sleek black briefcase suspiciously. He reached down and opened the locks, lifting the lid slowly and cautiously. 

"Ohh yep. Yep. Yep. Fuck. Those are Russian guns all right." Yuuri hissed, letting the case drop closed.

Okay so he's rich, wears lots of suits, has Russian guns...this spelt mafia.

"Wait a second," Yuuri gasped, grappling for the card from earlier, "he refers to me as detective...fuck! Does that mean he knows?... How am I not dead?"

Yuuri let out a grunt of frustration, covering his face with his hands. But wait...he was wasting precious time, he should be trying to get the hell out of here! Yuuri glanced around the room, his eyes locking on a familiar blob folded on a chair. His clothes. He walked over as calmly as his hammering heart and hungover brain would let him, jumping awkwardly as he tried to get his clothes on as fast as possible. As soon as he was somewhat dressed he dashed out of the room. He glanced in either direction, spotting the elevators and making his way towards them. He punched the button, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot as the elevator opposite seemed to headed up and arriving on this floor. Why was he so nervous about getting caught? Oh right, the mafia probably owned this entire floor! As soon as his elevator arrived Yuuri slinked inside, squashing himself against the panel and spamming the 'close doors' button.

 

In the other elevator...

 

The two men stepped out, Chris jumping out first, flinching as the elevator opposite just clicked shut. Chris was practically sweating to death by the time they arrived at the door of Viktor's hotel room. 

"Wait," Chris squeaked, holding Viktor's hand away from the card scanner, "What if the police are just waiting for us?"

"Chris, we practically own this hotel, we would know."

"Just checking, geez."

Viktor scanned the card and pushed the door open, striding into the room and tossing his coat off. 

"Yuuri?" Viktor checked the bedroom, bathroom, leaving the rest of the suite to Chris.

"Uh, Viktor. Is it possible that's he's, uh..."

"Gone." Viktor finished, a grim smile on his face.

 

Step no. 1: You probably shouldn't try the enemy product, no matter how delectable it might seem. But you do it anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I've been waiting to get that scene about them meeting out of my head for ages. Hope you enjoyed it, drunk Yuuri is one of my absolutely favourite things in the world. As always, thanks for commenting, reading, kudos and all.


	15. Day Trips Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter... we got a peek at how Yuuri and Viktor met for the first time and the fun that ensued. Continuing from Yuuri's perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Herro everyone! Here's the new chapter, WHOOP, hope you enjoy!

Washington DC, 2015

Yuuri huffed, clutching his jacket to his chest. At least he was pretty sure it was his jacket. What the hell was happening! He didn't even have his phone or his wallet. The only goddamn thing he had on him was his badge, and he wasn't even sure why. Okay, maybe he shouldn't have panicked and run head first out of there at the first sign of trouble. He sighed, pressing a hand to his head, which was both cracking in half and throbbing. He grumbled, pulling the card out of his pocket. Whoever this guy was, he was kind enough not to put a bullet in Yuuri's head, but maybe he shouldn't stick around to test how long that'd last.  
  
Yuuri sighed, shuffling up to the nearest cafe, he could probably ask to borrow a phone right? Yuuri glanced at his reflection in the storefront, well, he looks even worse than he feels and that's...really, really bad. Yuuri sighed, pushed the door open and made his way towards the counter.   
  
"Hi, sorry, could I borrow a phone?" Yuuri muttered, scratching the back of his head.  
  
The barista looked at him like he'd seen a ghost.  
  
"Could I," Yuuri started, whipping out his badge and shoving it in the guy's face, "borrow your phone, please."  
  
"Uh, sure." The man handed over his phone.  
  
Yuuri sighed, quickly punching the familiar number in.  
  
"Whitman speaking."  
  
"It's Katsuki," Yuuri muttered.  
  
"Yuuri? What the hell man? Why haven't you turned up for work?"  
  
"Just do me a freaking favour and pick me up."  
  
"From where?"  
  
Yuuri poked his head out the door, searched for the closest street sign and recited the name to his partner.  
  
"Okay. I should be there in about...10 or 15 minutes."  
  
"Thanks, Greg. I owe you a lot."  
  
Yuuri ended the call and removed it from the phone's call history. He handed it back over to the barista and bid them good day. As he waited to be picked up, Yuuri looked towards the sky.   
  
How the fuck had it all gone so wrong? The Russian mafia knew who he was, if he had a cover, it was well and truly blown. Just like that. Just one night, one mistake.  
  
Soon enough a sleek black sedan pulled up to the curb in front of Yuuri. He sucked a deep breath in before opening and stepping into the car.  
  
"Hi, Yuur- oh my god you look like-"  
  
"Shit?"  
  
"Yeah? I thought you said you were just gonna go out and have a relaxing night? Not get wasted..."  
  
"Could we not talk about this? You're not my dad."  
  
"But I am your partner." Greg chided as he pulled away.  
  
Yuuri glared out the window. "Just take me home."  
  
"Okay, okay."  
  
After a while, Yuuri spoke again, "do you have a pen and some paper?"  
  
"Yeah, in the glovebox."  
  
Yuuri unlatched the glove box and rifled through it, eventually pulling out a crumpled piece of paper and a pen. Greg glanced at him every few minutes, whatever he was scribbling down, Yuuri looked like he was concentrating harder than he had been able to in weeks. As he made the turn onto the final block before their apartment, curiosity got the better of him.  
  
"What are you scribbling there?" He questioned, treading lightly.  
  
"My letter of resignation."   
  
"Sorry, what?"  
  
"My letter of resignation," Yuuri repeated, not a single note of humour in his voice.  
  
"Yuuri, what the hell? You're joking right?" Greg choked as he pulled to a stop outside their apartment.  
  
Yuuri stopped scribbling, stuffed the lid of the pen back on and tossed it back into the glove box.   
  
"I'm not. Give it to Lydia for me." Yuuri muttered, shoving the crumpled paper into Greg's chest.  
  
He stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut. He strode into the building foyer and started making his way up the stairs. Greg meanwhile parked the car hurriedly.  
  
"Yuuri! Yuuri, wait, stop!" Greg screeched as he sprinted after his partner.  
  
He found Yuuri looking extremely disgruntled outside their apartment, he'd forgotten that he didn't even have a key.  
  
"Yuuri, please slow down and explain to me what the hell is going on."  
  
"Just open the fucking door, Whitman."  
  
"No, tell me what happened last night. It's 9 am in the morning, I don't think you're in the right mind to be making these decis-"  
  
"I got wasted. And I slept with someone in the Russian mafia and I told them I was a cop."  
  
Greg replied with shocked silence.  
  
"If I had a cover, it's dead." Yuuri grabbed him by the tie, yanking him and closer reaching into his inner breast pocket and fishing out the key.  
  
Yuuri unlocked the door and left his partner to stare into space. He walked straight to his bedroom, throwing open his cupboard, he pulled out a well-travelled suitcase and tossed it onto the bed. He opened his bedside table, quickly pulling out his spare glasses, phone and wallet.  
  
"Yuuri, why?" Greg murmured as he stood in the doorway watching the other man throw open draws and pile their contents into his suitcase.  
  
Yuuri remained silent.  
  
"Yuuri, please, listen to me. Undercover work isn't the only thing there is to do. There are lots of things we can do."  
  
"Oh please," Yuuri scoffed, "we both know I'm a dead weight on your career."  
  
"Yuuri that's not-"  
  
"Don't even try to convince me otherwise." Yuuri spat, turning back to packing.  
  
"Yuuri, please, think this over properly."  
  
Yuuri paused, his shoulders shaking. "I've had enough okay!" He roared, wiping desperately at the tears bubbling down his cheeks. He slammed the suitcase shut, dragging it with him as he shoved past his partner.  
  
"Yuuri, wait," Greg sighed, grabbing his arm, only for his fingers to be slapped away.  
  
"DON'T. Fucking. Touch me."  
  
"You've got so much potential, please."  
  
"I don't give a shit, okay?" Yuuri cried, his voice cracking. "I've been wanting to quit since we got back to the States."  
  
"Oh my god, Yuuri," Greg's eyes widened. "You need to get help, please, just stay. Let me help you. You need to stop running away from your problems."  
  
"No. You know what I need?" Yuuri growled as he threw the front door open. "I need to get out of here."  
  
Yuuri tugged his luggage out of the apartment and started lugging it down the stairs. By the time he'd reached the bottom he let out a frustrated growl, of course, he'd forgotten the keys to his car. He raced back up and back to his room. Thank god he'd left his car at home last night. He jogged back downstairs, wiping his nose as civilly as he could against his sleeve. Greg stood to the side, helpless but to watch in shock.  
  
"Yuuri, where are you going?" Greg asked, watching as Yuuri hauled his bag onto the back seat.  
  
"I'm going home," Yuuri muttered, slamming the door and moving to the driver's door, his hand pausing on the door handle. He glanced at his partner, rubbing his eyes with his other hand.  
  
"I'm sorry. Goodbye, Greg." Yuuri choked, opening the door and diving in.  
  
Greg watched passively as the car pulled away into the morning traffic.  
  
"Isn't it ironic that, for as long as I've known you, I still don't know where your home is?" Greg sighed, clutching the crumpled resignation letter to his chest.  
  
Yuuri's nails dug into the steering wheel, his teeth clenched in an attempt to stop the sobs wracking his body. He was going home.  
  
Later that night...  
  
Phichit sat curled up on his couch, a huge ass bucket of popcorn tucked into his lap. The TV was turned up to a deafening volume. Phichit couldn't afford to fly all the way to Barcelona to see the Grand Prix Finals in person so how else was he going to be immersed in it? Still, the TV wasn't loud enough to disguise the sound of the doorbell. He waited a few seconds, it rang again. Now who, WHO EXACTLY, was mad enough to interrupt Phichit during the GPF. He wrapped himself up into a standing burrito and made his way over to the door. He yanked the door open, more than ready to start yelling and screaming. Phichit's entire body froze, every cell in his body in absolute denial.  
  
"Yuuri...fucking...Katsuki?" He choked.  
  
"Hey, sorry, this is sudden-"  
  
"Oh my god. If this is a fantasy this is like way-way high up on my fantasy list like, what the fuck. Like. This isn't even funny, this is too real! Did I put something weird in my popcorn?"  
  
"I'm seriously, real," Yuuri laughed, rolling his eyes.  
  
"Hit me."   
  
Yuuri reached out and ruffled his friend's hair, gently, but still just hard enough.  
  
"I said, hit me."  
  
"I would never."  
  
"Alright, you passed the test." Phichit chuckled, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.  
  
Yuuri looked like he'd aged 5, maybe ten years, if that was even possible, it'd only been four. The bags under his eyes were even worse than they had been in high school, his hair lacking its old lustre.  
  
"C...can I come in?" Yuuri stuttered, scratching the back of his head, "Actually, do you think I could stay here for the night? I'll figure something out and be out of your hair by tomorrow."  
  
"Yeah, of course. Actually, it's pretty convenient right now. I've got a spare room."   
  
Yuuri smiled bashfully, turning to tug his suitcase in at Phichit's direction.  
  
"Spare room is right down the hall, on the left."  
  
"Thanks." Yuuri glanced over the living room as he passed.  
  
"You came at a great time!" Phichit chirped, making a grand gesture at his TV and snack set up. "I'm watching the GPF."  
  
Yuuri wore a fond yet reminiscent smile. "I haven't watched a skating competition in a while." He murmured thoughtfully.  
  
"Oh." Phichit's expression was some mixture of shock and confusion. Yuuri, not watching skating?  
  
Yuuri flinched, of course, that would seem off to Phichit. "I'm gonna take a quick shower, then Ima join you, alright?"  
  
"O...okay." Phichit shuffled back over to the couch. He waited till Yuuri went to shower before even starting to think.  
  
That was weird. That was soooooo weird. Skating had always been a part of Yuuri's life, but true, not so much after the incident. But it's not like he ever stopped watching. He must've been busy or something  
  
By the time Phichit had finished mulling over his new thoughts, Yuuri emerged from the shower, his hair ruffled after being washed. He padded over and sat on the couch a good half a metre away from his friend. Phichit watched him from the corner of his eye. Yuuri stared blankly at the TV, it was glaringly obvious that his mind was elsewhere. Phichit considered switching the channel just to see if Yuuri would even notice. After a tense ten minutes of silence, Yuuri spoke.  
  
"I've been thinking about moving back to Detroit."  
  
"That's funny since you're sitting on my couch in Detroit already."  
  
"I mean permanently."  
  
"I know, I know, I was kidding. You know, no one else is interested in the spare room here. If you wanted..."  
  
"You'd let me stay?" Yuuri grinned.  
  
"Let you? Of course! It would be a dream come true."  
  
"Great, well, that's sorted." Yuuri slumped back into the couch, a few of the worried creases leaving his forehead.  
  
Phichit shuffled over to his friend, resting his shoulder in the crook of his neck. "I missed you."  
  
"I missed you too." Yuuri murmured in reply.  
  
After another short silence, Phichit spoke again.  
  
"I have to ask, why did you come back?"  
  
Yuuri shrugged, "am I not allowed to?"  
  
"N...no, it's just...unexpected."  
  
Yuuri paused, seeming to be considering what he wanted to say.   
  
"I quit the DEA." The reply was sweet and short, a bitter tone lacing the words.   
  
That was only half an answer, but it had been more than Phichit had expected.  
  
"Ah, ok." Phichit didn't probe further, he sensed that Yuuri probably didn't want to talk about it, so it could wait.  
  
 

* * *

   
  
Detroit, 2017 (present time)  
  
   
  
Yuuri sighed, pulling the jacket closer around his shoulders. It was still warm. He leant his head against what he assumed was the inside wall of a van. In the driver's compartment, the two men spoke just loudly enough to catch their Italian. Yuuri's Italian was rusty, but it would have to do.  
  
"This is crazy."  
  
"Well, we couldn't say no. Did you want to stay and get shot?"  
  
"Crazy bastard, why'd Ferrari choose him?"  
  
"He's good. Actually good."  
  
"He's barely half Ferrari's age."  
  
"Age is just a number."  
  
"Oh please, don't give me- HOLY SHIT!"   
  
The car came to a screeching stop.   
  
"We're cut off! Who the fuck is that? They're behind us too!"  
  
"It's okay, it looks like it's one of our guys."  
  
The sound of cars doors being closed came from outside the van.  
  
"Is that-?"  
  
"It's the boss, oh shit."  
  
"Just roll with it."  
  
"With what?"  
  
"Get out of the car!" A female voice roared in English.  
  
"Just, let me do the talking."  
  
Yuuri tried to breathe deeply, failing miserably and resorting to trying not to hyperventilate or something. The boss? The talking was quieter than Yuuri could hear through the potato sack pulled over his head. A few moments later, the door of the van was flung open, a few hushed whispers accompanying the dip of the van as someone reached across to yank him out. He was pulled across what felt like cool asphalt under his feet, probably a road or something, to what he had to assume, was another vehicle.  
  
"Watch your head," The man grumbled, pushing Yuuri's head down.  
  
Yuuri would've been tempted to scream, as his knee made contact with something sending him sprawling face first into textured leather if it weren't for the quiet click of guns being loaded. He was in a car and there was someone else in this car, with a gun, probably pointed at him. Yuuri groaned and sat up.  
  
"Take that sack off his head." A woman's voice ordered, in English, strangely enough.  
  
Someone tugged the sack off his head roughly, Yuuri's eyes protesting and watering as the bright light reached his eyes. As soon as his eyes adjusted, he squinted, struggling to make out what was in front him. A woman sat between two men, probably bodyguards, who both had their guns trained on him.  
  
"Hello, you must be Mr Katsuki," The woman smiles, at least, Yuuri hopes she is because he can't see anything for shit.  
  
"Hi?" Yuuri wasn't sure what else to say.  
  
She turned and tapped on the partition behind her, the sound of the engine starting filling the momentary silence. The car jolted slightly as it started to move.  
  
"I'm going to get straight to the point. I have a few easy questions for you, simple."  
  
"Okay..." Yuuri chewed on his bottom lip.  
  
"How long have you known Viktor Nikiforov?"  
  
"Viktor?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Uh, well..." Yuuri paused, she didn't need to know about DC, did she. "I've known about him for just over a year now."  
  
"How long have you actually known him? Like, worked with him."  
  
"6 months? Roughly."  
  
"Do you know where he is?"  
  
"If I knew he'd be back in police custody by now."  
  
The woman paused, a finger pressed again her lips in an amused smile. "Honestly, I'm surprised he hasn't put a bullet in your head by now."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm surprised you're not dead. He should've had plenty of opportunities to kill you so tell me why you're not dead."  
  
Yuuri furrowed his eyebrows. Why wasn't he dead? Like Yuuri even could understand why. "I don't know."  
  
"Are you two in a relationship?"  
  
"Like, friends? Partners?" Yuuri cocked his head to a side.  
  
"Boyfriends, fuck buddies. Whatever you want to call it."  
  
Yuuri spluttered, "No! What the hell. We're just...I'm just his handler."  
  
The woman paused, twirling a few of her black locks around one finger, seemingly deep in thought. "So you aren't screwing?"  
  
"No."  
  
"That's surprising, knowing him."  
  
Yuuri shrugged, he wasn't quite sure what she was referring to. Did she know Viktor well?  
  
"What do you know about his family?" She asked, interrupting Yuuri's thoughts.  
  
"Family?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"His mother is dead." There was no harm in telling anyone that, right?  
  
"Yes, I know that. What about siblings? A brother or sister?"  
  
"I don't think he has any."  
  
"You're certain that he hasn't mentioned anyone else?"  
  
"I don't know, you tell me because you seem to know him better than I do."  
  
The woman eyed him quietly and muttered under her breath, "perhaps you are worth more to him than you realise."  
  
"Huh?"   
  
The car pulled to a stop, one of the bodyguards immediately stepping out and offering a hand to the woman, the second, keeping an eye on Yuuri. Once the woman was out of the car he gestured for Yuuri to follow. Yuuri squinted at his surrounding, another industrial estate?  
  
"You say that I know Viktor better, what makes you think that?"  
  
Yuuri shrugged.  
  
"Do you know who I am?"  
  
"Honestly, without my glasses, I can't see anything further than 20 centimetres from my face."  
  
"Crispino. Sara Crispino."  
  
Yuuri froze, every hair on his body standing. The Sara Crispino. The one and only. The Sara Crispino whose brother was killed by Viktor. How hadn't he figured it out earlier!? This was all about Viktor.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"He's a man of many secrets."   
  
Another man, a black blur in Yuuri's vision exited the warehouse nearby and walked over to Crispino.  
  
"You should leave. There was a perimeter trip and we have yet to hear from the guys who were sent to check it out." The man grunted.  
  
Crispino seemed unphased.  
  
She gestured to a few of her lackeys, speaking rapid-fire Italian. Yuuri blinked, he was pretty sure he caught the last few words. "Burn him when you're done."  FUCK. He resisted the temptation to bolt, he'd probably be dead before he could take 5 steps. Yuuri took deep breaths as a man and woman walked over and grabbed him by the arm.  
  
"I'm sorry I couldn't stay and talk longer, Detective. I'm sure you'll have your fun." Crispino waved, before walking back to the car.  
  
As soon as Crispino and her entourage were gone it was just Yuuri and 4 or so goons. From what he could see. He glanced at the woman, noting her hair had been pinned up into a bun, the scowl on her face probably directed at him. Yuuri sucked a deep breath in, this sure was a throwback to the old days.  
  
Yuuri swept a leg out, tripping the woman beside him and dropping to the ground, his lithe body responding as he locked his knees against his chest and moved his cuffed hands to the front of his body. In the blink of an eye, he turned on the woman all hand and nails, one of his fingers deftly pulling a pin out of her hair.  
  
"Bastard," She landed a solid punch to his stomach, sending him reeling backwards and straight into one of the waiting men.  
  
"Stop struggling," the guy hissed, kicking Yuuri's knees out.  
  
Yuuri seethed as his knees hit the ground, his fingers twisting and bending the bobby pin into the lock of the cuffs. This had to work. One of the other men walked over, a small smile on his lips as he pulled out his gun. Yuuri folded forwards on his knees, he needed to get these cuffs open without them seeing. Fuck, he was rusty.  
  
"Care to tell us anything else?"  
  
"Not like you'd let me live either way since I've seen your boss' face."  
  
The man laughed, covering his eyes momentarily, "say hi to Viktor Nikiforov in hell, cop."  
  
"He's not dead yet though..." Yuuri needed to stall, anything for a few more seconds.  
  
"Trust me, he will be soon enough."   
  
Yuuri flinched as the cool metal of a gun was pressed to the top of his head. Yuuri's hands shook, just a few more seconds.  
  
"Ciao ciao, detective."   
  
Yuuri looked up, a grim smile on his face, "goodbye."  
  
The sound of a gun firing bounced off the walls of the nearby warehouse. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until next week...
> 
> Reads, kudos and comments appreciated. Love y'all who are hanging on with me for this ride.


	16. Call the Cavalry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter:  
> Fuck, Yuuri was rusty.  
> "Care to tell us any last things?"  
> "Not like you'd let me live either way, since I've seen your boss' face."  
> The man laughed, covering his eyes momentarily, "say hi to Viktor Nikiforov in hell, cop."  
> "He's not dead yet though..." Yuuri needed to stall, anything for a few more seconds.  
> "Trust me, he will be soon enough."  
> Yuuri flinched as the cool metal of a gun was pressed to the top of his head. Yuuri's hands shook, just a few more seconds.  
> "Ciao ciao, detective."  
> Yuuri looked up, a grim smile on his face, "goodbye."  
> The sound of a gun firing bounced off the walls of the nearby warehouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! How's everyone doing? I am finally on semester break and god am I enjoying it. Hope you enjoy the new chapter ; D

 

 

Yuuri stopped breathing, his eyes screwed shut as the thud of 4 bodies hitting the ground at nearly the exact same time reached his ears. There was something warm running down Yuuri's face. He reached up and scrubbed his eyes before peeling them open cautiously. 

"What the fuck." He hissed as he glanced about.

All four of them were dead on the spot, each shot perfectly in the head. Snipers? He squinted into the distance in the direction the shots must've come from, the haze of a tall building standing out amongst the rest. Yuuri looked down, the twisted bobby pin still held in his shaking hand. He finished unlocking cuffs, letting out a groan as he tossed them aside, massaging his sore wrists. The sound of boots crunching across gravel approached, Yuuri pried the gun out of the dead guy's fingers and pointed it in the direction of the moving blur. How hadn't he heard them earlier?

"Please, put your gun down, I'm not your enemy." The man called, holding his hands in the air as he walked closer.

"Why the hell should I believe you?" Yuuri squinted, struggling to keep the gun pointed at the black clad figure.

"Target is secured." The man muttered into a radio. He shrugged, "the snipers are working with me. Come on, we've got to get you back to the police."

"Who are you?" Yuuri hissed, taking a step backwards for every step the man took towards him.

He couldn't quite put a finger on that accent. Russian? Something else?

"A friend of a friend."

Yuuri lowered his gun, did he really have a choice? "Well, I don't want to stick around for the Italians to get back."

"I'm on a pretty tight schedule myself, so let's get going." The man walked a few metres, paused, bent down and scooped what vaguely looked like a jacket off the ground. "This is yours, yes?"

"Uh, I guess. Someone just tossed it on me when we left the first compound." Yuuri reached out and took it from him, sliding his arms into the silky warmth of the sleeves.

Yuuri took this opportunity to look, no, squint at his newfound guardian angel. The guy stared impassively, his lips set into a straight line. He was about the same height as Yuuri, tanned skin with dark brown hair styled in an undercut and well, brown eyes. 

"You never answered my question about who you are." Yuuri murmured, looking away when he realised how stupid he must look, just squinting at someone. 

He shrugged,"Let's just say a certain Russian asked for some help. And you never heard that from me."

Yuuri nodded, following the mystery guy who wasn't much of a talker.

 

Ten minutes later...

 

"The police will be here soon." 

"Yeah," Yuuri bounced his knees up and down in an effort to stay warm.

For a while the mystery guy stood in silence, looking down the abandoned road, funny that no one else was here.

"Thank you, by the way."

He turned and nodded.

"You could at least tell me your name." Yuuri sighed, hoping to pass the time.

"If we cross paths again, I doubt it will be under good circumstances."

"All the more reason." Yuuri shrugged.

The man cocked an eyebrow. "My last name is Altin."

"That's a cool name. Where are you from?"

"I'd rather not say."

Yuuri nodded. Mercenaries were complicated. He supposed the younger man reminded him of his younger self. Otabek pulled his phone out and lifted it to his ear. He spoke in measured German, his voice even as he communicated with whoever was on the other end of the line. After a brief exchanges he ended the call and turned to Yuuri.

"The police are around the corner. I would be grateful if you didn't try to follow me."

Yuuri shrugged, "I won't. Oh and, one last thing. Thank you."

Otabek nodded, without another word he turned and walked off into the distance. 

 

As Mr Altin said, a police car did come screeching around the corner a minute later. Yuuri waited patiently for the car to come to a stop, watching as Phichit threw himself out of the front passenger seat and into Yuuri's arms.

"Oh my god, you're okay!" He wailed, tears flowing freely down his face, he sandwiched Yuuri's face between his hand's, squishing his cheeks. 

"Yeah," Yuuri murmured, smiling.

"There's so much blood." Phichit croaked.

"It's fine, it's not mine."

"Y...Yuuri..." Phichit buried his head back into his best friend's shoulder, wailing.

Yuuri patted his back, smiling as Celestino got out of the car, a soft smile on his face.

"Can we go home?" Yuuri asked as his best friend released him from the bear hug.

"Home?!" Phichit screeched," no, we're going right back to the fucking hospital and getting you checked over."

"Really, Phich, I'm fine."

"No, you are not. You got kidnapped."

Yuuri shrugged and stood, brushing himself off and walking over to the car.

"You've been gone for more than 10 hours."

Yuuri shrugged again, opening the door to the backseat and sliding himself into the comfortable warmth of the car.

"You look terrible."

"It wasn't that bad. They didn't really lay a finger on me. So that's fine."

H...How can you be so chill about this?"

Yuuri looked out the window as the Captain drove back towards the city centre.

"It's not like you've done this before." Phichit turned and glared at Yuuri.

Yuuri gave a little snort, he muttered to himself, "maybe I have."

Phichit seemed to have heard, turning to stare at his friend in abject horror. Yuuri stared out the windows, his eyelids getting heavier with every blink. Yuuri buried his face in the suit jacket, it smelled familiarly nice. Soon enough his eyes refused to open at all. He was home.

 

* * *

 

 

Otabek prodded the dying fire absently, making sure that the documents had been properly reduced to ashes. The dwindling orange glow lit his face. His flight home to St. Petersburg was in just under four hours, more than enough time to get to the airport and get his minimal luggage checked in. He took his time extinguishing the fire, watching curiously as the ashes ebbed away. When he was done he grabbed his suitcase and walked out of the room, his heels clicking quietly against the marble floor. As he walked down the corridor, he paused at a pair of grand doors, the wooden frames intricately carved with a story of some kind. He pushed the doors open, glancing around the room. Bookshelves, completely filled with dusty leather-backed volumes, covered the far wall. Otabek walked over, his finger tracing along the bookshelf till he came to a book that seemed interesting. He pulled it off the shelf. He was sure Viktor wouldn't mind if he just took one book, he wouldn't need it any time soon. Otabek brushed off the dusty spine of the book and tucked it under his arm.

 

He looked around the rest of the room, a wide wooden desk took centre position and much like the rest of the furniture was covered in a wide plastic drape. It was as if the place had been frozen in time, so empty, so lifeless. Otabek couldn't imagine how it must be to live here alone. He'd spent last summer here and the sheer size of the home made it feel like it was a difficult space to fill, but it was a little too squishy with six of them just romping around here all day. He smiled fondly. They were good memories. Otabek walked slowly towards the door, opening it hesitantly, he turned to look behind him. He shook his head and walked out, shutting the door beside him, drowning the room in darkness once again.

 

He yawned as he opened the front door, dragging his suitcase down the steps to his rental car parked in the drive way. He tossed his suitcase in the back seat and made his way to the driver's door. 

 

He parked the car, pulling the key out of the ignition he hummed to himself quietly as he dragged his suitcase out and across the car park to the rental office. The quiet sound of ringing bells accompanied his entry.

"Hello sir, how can I help you?" A woman glanced up from the desk.

"Just returning a car."

"Keys please," 

Otabek passed the keys over. The woman glanced at him a few times, her cheeks dusted a slight pink. Otabek looked away and pretended that he didn't notice.

"Well, that's all good. Thank you, Mr West." She smiled bashfully.

 

The fake ID was courtesy of Viktor from quite a long time ago actually. Otabek thought it only proper that he take certain measures since Viktor's... downfall, he would appreciate the effort.

 

* * *

 

 

 

In St. Petersburg 16 Hours Later...

 

A week ago Chris had asked Otabek to fly over to the States, it was sudden, to Yuri's annoyance. They'd been planning a fun weekend since his coach was going to give him a few days off. He had to tie up some loose ends and look for Viktor, which was proving challenging until Viktor sought him out. Of course, Chris made up some lie about Otabek doing a DJing gig for some friends of Chris' in Switzerland. He'd actually done it before so it wasn't too much of a stretch. A week was a reasonable amount of time for Otabek to be gone. 

 

Viktor, characteristically, had left Chris one text before disappearing. Last night Viktor had called him, asking him for a favour. It'd been a while since he'd really pulled a job for Viktor, but he promised that it would be easy. He'd just needed someone he could trust to watch over an operation. It turned out to be a rescue mission which wasn't nearly as 'easy' or 'simple' as the Russian mobster had said. Well, the kid didn't die so that's a start, he nearly did though. Otabek had to hand it to the sniper team, they were good. Who the guy was, Otabek got a short brief on him before he'd even left Russia. And by a short brief he meant that Chris liked to talk about it often, really often, annoyingly often. Yuuri Katsuki was a cop that Viktor had been 'chasing' after for a while, according to Chris at least. Oddly enough, he seemed like a nice enough guy, not the kind who would play along with the mafia, but who knew, people were rarely ever that simple.

 

The cab pulled to a stop outside the row of terrace houses, Otabek paid the cabbie hastily and dragged his luggage out with him into the cool St. Petersburg night. As he stepped up the front steps he glanced into the living room window, a light was still on. Who was still awake? It was probably just Chris drinking or watching TV, but even so it wasn't like Chris to stay up till 4 in the morning. He shuffled up to the front door, digging his key out of his pocket, he unlocked the door as quietly as he could. He walked straight past the living room, choosing to ignore drunk Chris was always the smart choice.

"Well, well. Look who's finally home, Altin." Yuri called, his voice dripping with annoyance.

"Yura?" Otabek turned to face him. Why did it feel like he was a cheating husband who came home only to be ambushed by a suspicious wife?

"Hi." Yuri sat cross-legged on the couch in leggings and a t-shirt that was so loose it was falling off one shoulder. Otabek was pretty sure that was his shirt. Potya lay bundled up in Yuri's lap, purring each time his fingers ran through the feline's fur.

"Why are you still awake? It's past 4 in the morning."

"I thought I'd stay up and wait for you." Yuri's scowl was replaced with a tired smile.

"You didn't need to. Aren't you cold?"

"Not particularly. I have Potya." 

Potya chose this precise moment to jump from Yuri's lap and pad across the room, brushing against Otabek's legs.

"Two-timing bitch." Yuri hissed like a deflated balloon, barely half of his usual bitterness.

Yuri stumbled to his feet, shuffling across the room.

"Look at you, you need to sleep. How are you going to wake up in two hours to go to practice?"

Yuri tripped, his whole body pitching forward as he landed face first in Otabek's chest.

"I'm fine. This was totally what I was planning to do anyway." Yuri wrapped an arm around his middle, not bothering to move his face.

"Liar." Otabek sighed, rubbing his shoulder.

"Don't lecture me about lying." He grunted, his voice muffled by Otabek's jacket.

Otabek froze.

Yuri peeled his face off, opting to lean his chin against Otabek's chest and look up at him. "We both know that the last flight from Geneva arrived in St. Petersburg more than 3 hours ago. And I don't need to tell you that we only live half an hour from the airport."

He hated lying to Yuri.

"You should go to bed."

For a while the two locked eyes, the fierce, green eyes of a soldier and Otabek's softer chocolate. They didn't lie to Yuri to make him feel bad, they just wanted him to live as normal a life as possible. He didn't need to know what was happening, it was an unnecessary worry.

"Stop it," Yuri grumbled.

Otabek raised an eyebrow.

"I can tell when you're worrying about me."

He shrugged. "How, exactly?"

"I don't know, you just look like you're thinking, even more than usual, and you run your fingers through my hair differently."

Otabek paused, he hadn't even noticed when his fingers found their way between those soft blonde locks.

"Sorry." He muttered.

"Whatever. I know there's shit you can't tell me."

And how Otabek wished it really wasn't so. He nodded. "We should go to bed."

"Mm. I'm taking tomorrow off. Stay at home and play games with me."

Otabek nodded before dragging Yuri, whose eyes were already half shut, to his bedroom. He helped him into bed, tucking him in carefully. He kicked and moved a lot so he needed it.

"Thanks...for coming back," Yuri muttered in his sleep, letting out a snore. 

 

Otabek smiled fondly. Yuri wasn't stupid. It was Viktor's idea. Not saying anything equated to giving Yuri the most normal life possible. Or as normal as being a top-level, international athlete at 16 could be, besides being raised by Viktor, a crime boss, Chris, the heir of a shipping conglomerate and a semi-retired assassin. But Otabek supposed it was true, if you never talked about something, you could at least pretend it wasn't there.

 

When Otabek did eventually collapse into bed, he slept like a log till he was rudely awoken, mere hours later.

"LEAVE ME ALONE," A moment of silence before Yuri added,"DRUNKARD!" For good measure. 

Otabek groaned.

"You get out of bed right now, young man. Lilia was expecting you at the rink half an hour ago."

"Fuck off, Chris. I'm not going to training." Yuri hissed in Russian this time.

"Then at least have the guts to call her yourself."

Yuri remained silent. Otabek snickered. Yuri Plisetsky was terrified of his coach.

"I will."

"Now, Yuri."

"Stop acting like you're my dad!"

To Otabek's relief, the doorbell interrupted any further screaming between the two, but he was oh so wrong to think it was over. The sound of the door opening was accompanied by the quiet click of heels down the wooden boards of the corridor.

"Yuri Andreyevich Plisetsky!" Lilia's voice boomed.

Otabek groaned, rolling out of bed. Did everything go down the shit hole when he was gone?

"Ms Baranovskaya!" Yuri squeaked.

"Just because 'Beka' isn't here doesn't give you the excuse to be moping around."

Otabek choked at the reference to his nickname. What the hell was that meant to mean?! He knocked on Yuri's bedroom door, coughing when that wasn't enough to get their attention.

"Oh. Hey, Otabek. Did we wake you?" Yuri muttered, half cowered behind his sheets.

Lilia eyed him cautiously.

Otabek sighed, "Sorry, Ms Baranovskaya, Yuri stayed up late last night to wait for me. I should've warned him otherwise."

Lilia paused, looking Otabek up and down. "Fine. I expect him at the rink seven o'clock sharp tomorrow. No excuses this time."

Otabek nodded. Without another word, Lilia turned on her heels and walked out of the house. Yuri waited till the front door closed with a resounding click before opening his mouth. 

"I have not been mopi-"

"Go back to sleep, Yura," Otabek grunted, shutting Yuri's bedroom and shuffling back to his own room.

He passed an amused looking Chris, "the kid sure is at that troublesome age now, isn't he?"

Otabek shrugged in reply. He was honestly too tired to deal with this, everything was going into one ear and out the other. Otabek barely registered his back thudding into the mattress before sleep overtook him once more. 

 

* * *

 

 

Halfway Across the World, in Detroit

 

Minako padded quietly down the hallway, a pensive grip on her purse. It was a feeling she'd never be able to shake, the thought of Yuuri in hospital, Yuuri kidnapped, Yuuri being hurt in any way. She watched the numbers passing on the wall. Room 121, 123, 125, 127. She stopped outside the room, a hand braced against the wall. Yuuri was fine, Phichit had said so himself. She knocked and waited for a response. Silence. She peeked her head into the room.

"Yuuri?"

"O..oh? Minako-sensei? I'm in the bathroom. I'll be out in a minute, make yourself comfortable." Yuuri called, his voice muffled behind the bathroom door.

"Okay," Minako replied as she stepped into the room cautiously. 

She froze, a small gasp leaving her lips as her eyes fell upon Yuuri's bedside table. A bouquet of vivid blue roses sat in a thin, clear glass of water. Blue. Blue like the clearest of sapphires. She tiptoed over and plucked the similarly blue card, that was leaning against the vase, from its perch. She looked over the card, her triumphant smirk turning to confusion.

All that was written on the card was,

 

"My dearest detective,

 

You're invited to: 11 Hutchison Drive, 10th of June at 18:05.

 

Viktor."

 

"Huh. That's...odd." Minako murmured, squinting at the card as it was yanked from her fingers.

"Could you not look at my stuff without asking me?" Yuuri grumbled.

"I was curious! Those are some very pretty roses too."

"Yeah, they are."

"Who's...Viktor?"

"Ah," Yuuri flushed, "nobody." He turned his attention to the card, shifting his glasses as he read.

"Secret Admirer?"

"Minako..."

"Secret Admiration?"

Yuuri spluttered, "stop it!" He clambered back into the bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin.

"So I'm right?!" She chirped, smiling softly at the young man.

"Stop teasing me," Yuuri grumbled, reaching out to pluck one of the roses out of the vase, twirling the stem between his thumb and index finger.

"Oh, how it is to be in love," Minako let out a dramatic sigh and perched herself on the edge of the bed. "So when were you going to introduce him to me?"

"I swear to god I will push you off the bed."

"Aww, I'm sorry. Guess I got a little too excited." Minako shrugged. "Is he hot?"

Yuuri's nose shrivelled up.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop-"

"He's so beautiful it should be illegal," Yuuri muttered, putting the rose back. 

"What was that?"

"Never mind."

"Oh come on, we never talk about boys, Yuuri!" She cried, emphasising the vowels in his name.

"Nothing will come of it. We aren't like that." Yuuri murmured, putting the card face down on the table.

"Yuuri, darling." Minako sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder, "nothing will ever come of anything if you don't try. At least take up his offer for dinner."

Yuuri shrugged, the invitation definitely wasn't for dinner, but Minako didn't need to know that. After an awkward silence, Yuuri decided to speak.

"So...how are you doing?"

"Good. I would ask how you're doing but-"

"I'm great."

"Yuuri, you know Phichit told me you were kidnapped."

"Oh."

"I'm worried about you."

"I am completely fine, as you can see."

"Phichit said you were working so late you weren't coming home, again."

Yuuri's eye twitched. Phichit was a dead man. "I just had a lot of stuff to do."

"Please, Yuuri, I'm worried this case with this Nikiforov guy is too much for you."

"It's not, really."

"You got kidnapped."

"It wasn't them though."

"What?"

"Just, don't worry. Okay? Trust me, please."

"I know, but remember, work is no excuse to neglect your health or your love life."

"Viktor and I are not-"

"You're young Yuuri, now is the time to live."

Yuuri opened his mouth, more than ready to start arguing but instead opting to let out a long sigh.

"I love you." Minako murmured, pressing a kiss to Yuuri's head. "I'll always worry about you like a mother hen dotes upon her chooks."

"I feel like I should thank you but- ouch." Yuuri flinched as Minako twisted his ear.

"I didn't raise you like this," she tutted. 

Yuuri rolled his eyes. "Did you just come here to torture me?"

Minako laughed, "maybe. But in all seriousness, are you really alright?"

Yuuri looked her straight in the eye, "yes."

"Okay, you'll tell someone if it becomes too much, right?"

"Yes."

"Good." The tension visibly fell from Minako's shoulders, the worried creases in her brow straightening out.

 

The pair chatted amiably about random things, from skating to Katsudon, until the nurses had asked Minako to leave. Once she was gone, Yuuri reached for the blue card and his phone. He snapped a blurry picture and sent it over to Phichit alongside the message:

"Call the cavalry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you guys ready for a reunion? Cause I sure as hell ain't! Sorry, I just meant I hadn't written it yet but most definitely looking forward to it. Well, as always please leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed and want more. I'll see you next week!


	17. Step 2: Do it again, even if you know it's stupid.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The opening scene is set just after Yuuri and Viktor meet again in 2015: (Chapter 14)
> 
> Time seemed to freeze. Yuuri tumbled into the seemingly endless depths of his eyes. Cerulean, like the sky on the clearest days or the seawater on the most beautiful equatorial beaches. Scrap that. The most beautiful beach, with the whitest sand to match his alabaster skin and a clear summer sky.  
> "Hello, Yuuri, nice to see you." Viktor smirked, brushing a few locks of his silver hair out his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire chapter is set in the past, sorry, not sorry. Think of it as an intermission. Hope you enjoy finding out a bit more about Viktor and Chris. (Best Bros ever.)

 

 

Mid 2016, Detroit, just after Yuuri and Viktor met for the first time in 6 months.

 

Step 2: Do it again, even if you know it's stupid. 

 

Viktor leaned back in his chair, staring at the corrugated iron sheets which made up the ceiling of the warehouse. Just a meagre, yet solid obstruction between him and the stars. It didn't make any sense. It had only been a few months since the night he'd first met Yuuri, surely the detective couldn't have forgotten. But the look on his face when he saw the red dot of a sniper's laser sight on his chest, priceless. Maybe he just needed to get the detective alone? Viktor fished his phone out of his pocket and dialled a number. It only rang twice before Chris picked up.

"Viktor?"

"Chris, my friend! How are you? How's Yuri?"

"I'm good, Yura is good too."

"Guess who I saw today?"

"Who?"

"Yuuri Katsuki!"

"Viktor..." Chris sighed.

"I finally found him. He's working as a cop in Detroit."

"Viktor...what did you do?"

"Oh, he found me himself."

"Viktor, what the hell are you doing? We both know you'd never get caught on your own!"

"Chris..."

"What were you thinking?"

"I thought we'd have a little chat or something."

"At gunpoint?"

"Uh..."

"Viktor. This is seriously not okay. You jeopardised your entire operation just to see a guy you slept with once."

"Chris, this has nothing to do with the fact that I slept with him. We could use someone like him, you know?"

"No, I don't know. And if you had an ounce of common sense in you you'd see that as well. Just drop it, Viktor. Nothing good will come of this." Chris sighed.

"I just..."

"I know, we all have temptations sometimes. It's gonna get you jailed Vitya, or worse, killed. Look, I'm sorry, I've got to go. We can talk about this later."

"Ah, bye."

"Bye."

Viktor let out a sigh and slid his phone into his pocket. What was Chris talking about? This was a game. Just like any other, it was fun. Viktor and Chris would never have become good friends as they are now if it weren't for Viktor doing 'stupid' things.

 

* * *

 

 

St. Petersburg, Early 2008.

 

Chris stifled a yawn, eyes flickering around the room full of old men with scowls permanently glued to their faces. Every few minutes his eyes shifted back to the young man sitting opposite him, the beautiful, young man to be more accurate. Viktor Nikiforov, probably heir apparent of the Feltsman Bratva at this rate.

Elbowing him, his father hissed, "you'd better be paying attention, Christophe."

"Yeah yeah, I am." He muttered back under his breath, crossing his arms. 

Viktor was explaining something, hands gesturing energetically. He looked a little young to be starting and running the entire US branch. Chris returned to his zoned out state, choosing to stare blankly at Viktor, his eyes drinking in the statuesque features of the other man. After a while Chris was jolted awake by men from all around the circular table standing and excusing themselves. Thank god, the terrible day was over. He watched as his father stood and crossed the room to join Yakov Feltsman as he shook hands with the leaving guests. The two seemed to be discussing something in which Viktor briefly interrupted. Russian. Chris raised an eyebrow, yes he was fluent in English, French, German and could speak a little bit of Italian too, but Russian was still very much beyond him.

"Christophe!" His father called, beckoning him over.

He let out a sigh, pulling himself up and brushing his suit off, he strode over to the three men standing by the door. 

"Christophe, this is Viktor Nikiforov," he gestured at Viktor, who smiled thinly at Chris, offering a hand shake.

"Nice to meet you." Chris shook the other man's hand firmly, giving him an equally fake smile.

"You two will be working together in the future, why don't you get to know each other a little?" Yakov grumbled, placing a heavy hand on Viktor's shoulder.

Chris father nodded, "I just need the boy back at the hotel by 9."

"That should be more than enough time." Viktor said, smiling slyly at Yakov.

"Don't do anything stupid."

"Stupid?" Viktor chuckled.

"And he's a minor for christ's sake, Viktor. No heavy drinking."

Viktor looked Chris up and down for a moment, letting out a cold laugh, "who said we were going drinking?"

Chris shifted uncomfortably, glaring at his father with a 'what the hell am I supposed to do?' look.

"We're not going drinking, Yakov," Viktor stated, slinging a casual arm around Chris' shoulder. "Just some good old man to man bonding, eh?" 

"Sure." Chris' father shrugged.

Viktor excused the two of them, dragging a very uncomfortable looking Chris out of the meeting room.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot to ask. Is English okay with you?" Viktor asked, smiling at Chris.

"Uh, yeah, that's fine."

"Cool, mind if I call you Chris?" Viktor asked, spinning around to face Chris as he continued stepping down the hall backwards.

"I don't mind..." Chris sighed.

"Please, call me Viktor." 

"Right, Viktor."

"Oh, Chris?" Viktor started, stopping suddenly in the middle of the corridor, a finger pressed to his lips.

"Y...yes?"

"How are you in COD?" Viktor asked, a small twinkle in his eyes.

Chris blinked, had he heard right?

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

"Call of Duty. Are you good?" Viktor asked, rolling his eyes and emphasising each word as if Chris couldn't understand English.

"Passable."

"Cool. Hope you're fine with playing that for a few hours."

Chris let out a relieved laugh, "honestly, I think I would actually enjoy that much more than dinner at some stuffy restaurant." Chris froze, was that a little too far?

Viktor grinned,"good to know we're on the same page then."

As they passed by a few guards by the front door, Viktor waved amicably, earning a few rolled eyes. He almost seemed like a different person the moment they left the meeting room, that air of seriousness was gone in a puff of smoke like it had never really existed in the first place. Chris shoved his hands into his pockets, following Viktor to a nondescript black sedan parked on a secluded side of the driveway. The two men crunched across the snow covered gravel in silence, only the sound of birds returning to their nests as the sunset filled the emptiness. Viktor jumped into the front seat and seemed to be practically vibrating with excitement as he pushed the key into the ignition. 

"So, Chris, how old are you?"

"16."

"Oh, sweet sixteen." Viktor murmured, a muted bitterness in his tone.

"How old are you?"

"19."

"I thought you were-"

"Older? Yeah..." Viktor grimaced.

 

After ten minutes of random questions like 'do you prefers cats or dogs?' or 'what's your favourite food?" Viktor pulled up beside a group of similar looking townhouses. The Swiss cringed as he stepped out of the car, back into the snowy air. 

"Welcome to my humble abode." Viktor chirped as he dug his keys out of his pocket, shakily unlocking the door.

"Nice place," Chris commented as he took his coat off, hanging it up by the door.

He looked about in wonder, the double story house felt oddly cozy despite the freezing temperature of the house. The modern furniture and decoration gave the entire place a sophisticated appeal.

"Yeah, it is..." Viktor muttered distractedly as he fiddled with the thermostat. "Go ahead and make yourself comfortable."

Eventually Viktor seemed content with whatever temperature he had chosen, moving into the living room and gesturing for Chris to sit. Viktor turned the TV on, not really seeming to care that the 70 inch screen was mirroring a web browser page opened on his laptop. Chris desperately fought the need to laugh. A 19 year old being groomed to manage the operations of an entire criminal organisation in one country, was playing CLUB PENGUIN. Unless he had kids. Now that was a strange thought. Viktor switched the TV over to a different video source.

"Is that the new PS3?" Chris asked, grinning.

"Yeah?"

"This is great..." Chris sighed contentedly, nearly drooling as Viktor handed him a remote.

 

* * *

 

"I'm being beaten in my own house, by my own guest. This is stupid, you said you were passable, not a pro!" Viktor huffed, chucking his controller at the adjacent couch in a fit of fury.

"Sore loser~" Chris teased, laughing.

"Screw you." Viktor hissed playfully, punching Chris' shoulder.

"You know, I was wondering..."

Viktor raised an eyebrow, "what?"

"You're not Feltsman's bastard son, are you?"

"No, definitely not. God, if I were related to him how could I possibly have this beautiful face."

Chris laughed, albeit a little nervously and looked away.

Viktor leant closer, running a finger along Chris' chin, turning the younger man's face to face him.

"Did you really think I didn't notice you staring at me all day?" Viktor murmured, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"A...ah...I..." Chris stammered, a blush blooming across his cheek.

Viktor crushed his lips against the younger man's, silencing any further stammering. Chris wound his fingers through the silky locks of the other man, tugging gently. After what felt like an eternity the two separated, faces mere centimetres apart.

"Well..." Viktor huffed, a suggestive smirk on his face as he start unbuttoning Chris' shirt.

"V...Viktor..." Chris stuttered, grabbing Viktor's hands.

"What? Don't tell me you don't want this."

"It's not that...it's just..." Chris sucked in a deep breath.

"You've never done it before?" Viktor asked coolly.

"Y...yeah."

Viktor pressed a short, soft kiss to the younger man's lips.

"Let me take care of you then." Viktor murmured softly, standing up and pulling Chris up with him. He tugged the dishevelled Chris by the hand towards the stairwell, momentarily glancing back down at him as they skipped up the stairs. 

 

Later...

 

Chris shifted, pulling the velvety sheets closer around his bare shoulders. He cautiously cracked open one eye and was greeted with a melancholy sight. Viktor was seated up against the headboard, the white sheets jumbled at his waist. His bare alabaster skin glowed in the moonlight, changing ever so slightly with his movements as he gently tilted a crystal glass to his mouth. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, a fresh, red mark on his collarbone standing out from the rest of his flawless skin. His hair glimmered even more brightly in the white light, each strand capturing and reflecting its own glimmer. He seemed to be staring out the window, at the sky, the moon, the stars, something.

"I know you're awake, Chris," Viktor muttered, turning to face him.

Chris coughed, rolling his eyes, "are you seriously drinking? It's not even..." Chris turned over and patted the bedside table eventually picking up his watch and squinting at the watchface in the darkness. "Barely past 7 pm."

"If you don't quit acting like my mother I'm gonna pour myself another glass." Viktor grumbled.

"Fine then. What were you thinking about?" Chris sighed, propping his head up with his hand.

"Thinking?"

"Yeah." Viktor had been staring out the window like a man waiting for a lover who was never coming back, "Is there someone out there you're waiting for?" 

Viktor laughed bitterly,"there's no one out there for me, Chris, no one." He smiled sadly and continued looking out the window.

"You'll never know if you never look," Chris replied, shrugging.

Viktor laughed,"no one has ever had the nerve to say that to me."

"Gotta start with someone. I know I probably sound naive as hell, but I don't want anything to do with my father's shipping business. I don't want to be a shipping magnate. I want to do something with my life, properly, not just traffic arms and narcotics. I want to travel the world."

Viktor turned to face him, his smile turned to a grim frown.

"It's not naive." He murmured, the pained expression was quickly replaced with a smile, "it's kind of nice actually."

"T...thanks? I guess..."

Viktor looked out the window, seeming to be distracted by something. "Chris, put some clothes on. I want to introduce you to someone." Viktor muttered, sliding out of bed.

Taking a few steps away from the bed he bent down to pick up a shirt and tossed it to a confused looking Chris. Chris pulled the shirt on hurriedly, looking around for his pants.

"Please don't tell me he's going to introduce me to his girlfriend or something." He muttered under his breath. The house did seem a little too big for one person.

 

Chris pattered quietly down the stairs after Viktor, fixing his rustled hair in the reflections of glass frames on the wall. Chris paused by a mirror near the door, analysing his own reflection. He didn't look too bad, right? His hair was only slightly tousled and the blush in his cheeks long faded. The sudden banging at the door caused him to jump and gasp, snapping his head to look at Viktor who seemed to find the cacophony more entertaining than anything else. Viktor flung the door open, causing Chris to flinch at the oncoming gust of frozen wind. Standing in the yellow light of the front door was a little boy, probably not much older than 7, wearing a scowl and muttering something in Russian that Chris could only assume was not pretty. 

Viktor ducked his head out the door and called to a car that was idled by the curb, waving as it pulled away and drove off into the snowy night. Russian, again. The boy kicked his shoes off and entered the house, slapping at Viktor's hand as he ruffled the his hair. The boy turned and slammed the door, effectively stemming the flow of freezing air before turning to face Chris. He glared at him, his emerald gaze unwavering. The words of Russian spat from his clenched teeth screamed 'impetuous kitten' but his eyes held the quiet assertedness of a seasoned mercenary. If the Russian bratva had a child heir, he'd probably look like this, right? 

"Yura, use English, our guest doesn't know any Russian." Viktor sighed, placing a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Oh." The boy started, flipping off the hoodie of his jacket, a small look of surprise on his face. "My bad. I just assumed."

Viktor smiled apologetically at Chris. Chris blinked, the boy spoke English flawlessly, if anything, an accent similar to Viktor's indicated he too was from the States.

"This is Christophe, he's a friend of mine."

Yuri paused, looking Christophe up and down, "nice to meet you," he grumbled, sticking out a hand to Chris.

"Call me Chris, nice to meet you uh..." Chris mumbled back, taking the boys hand and shaking it hesitantly.

"Yuri," the boy muttered.

"Yuri," Chris affirmed.

"Alright, cool! Introductions done. Chris will be staying with us for dinner." Viktor chirped, flashing his heart shaped smile at the two. "You must be starving Yura, how was practice with Lilia?"

"Fine." The child grumbled, batting Viktor's hand away again.

"Why don't you go shower? I'll warm up some Pirozhki for us." 

The boys eyes lit up, a grin spreading across his lips, "I'll be quick." 

The boy dashed up the stairs, his tiny legs flying up the steps in sets of 3.

"Someone likes Pirozhki." Chris muttered, a little awed by the boy's speed.

"It's the little kitten's favourite."

"Is...is he your son?" Chris flushed, I mean, it explained the Club Penguin.

"No, silly!" Viktor laughed. "If he was, I would've been 13 when he was conceived. I mean, it's possible, but that's just weird. He's my brother."

"Oh...I didn't know you-"

"Had a brother? Yeah, it's kind of something I keep a secret."

"Oh."

"Don't worry, I won't kill you."

Chris swallowed, that kind of secret, huh?

"You did say you wanted to travel the world right? And wanted nothing to do with your father's shipping business?"

"Yeah, I did." Chris cocked his head to a side and followed Viktor into the kitchen.

"My brother is training to be a figure skater. The older he gets, the more he'll be travelling and eventually he'll be competing internationally. I need someone I can trust to look after him, someone who isn't his coach."

"How old is he? Jesus, how do you know he's going to be anything?"

"He knows what he wants. He still has to keep up with school, be that going to school or having a tutor. The Russians are already interested, his beautiful ballet aside, I know my brother. When he puts his mind to anything I'm sure he'll be able to achieve a lot."

"Okay, even if I do accept this baby sitting job, I can't exactly just go pack my bags and tell my dad I'm gonna go baby sit an up-and-coming figure skater for a living."

Viktor shrugged, "well, that works for me. It's not like he's gonna go anywhere for a few years. Is your dad the issue?"

Chris, shoved his hands in his pockets, "you could say that. He wants me to finish high school and then work with him in the company."

Viktor slid a few pirozhki into the mini oven. "How about I deal with your dad then?"

"How though?"

"I mean, I could negotiate to have you work with me after you graduate. I think I could convince him." Viktor glanced behind him when the sound of feet pounding down the stairs filled the otherwise silent house.

Viktor mouthed to Chris, "let's talk about this later."

Chris nodded as Yuri skidded into the kitchen, bouncing from foot to door behind Viktor. "Are the pirozhki ready???"

"No. Have you dried your hair?"

"No?" Yuri whined.

"Go dry your hair. They'll be ready by the time you're done."

"They better be." Yuri growled, crossing his arms and striding out of the kitchen.

Chris meanwhile, watched the entire domestic scene in something between shock and adoration. The brothers, while not looking much alike, did share the grace with which they carried themselves.

 

As Viktor had promised, the Pirozhki were indeed heated up and ready to eat by the time Yuri got back. The young boy could barely contain himself until he was seated. Viktor filled the dinner with quiet, polite chatter, ranging from interrogating Yuri about what he'd done that day and just random questions to Chris.

Viktor smiled at Chris, almost mischievously. "You know, Yura, I might be getting more busy soon."

Yuri looked visibly deflated by this, the boy slumping a little in his chair. "Okay," he murmured.

"But I was thinking I'd have Chris here keep you company."

"Huh?" Yuri grunted, raising a questioning eyebrow as he glared at Chris. "This guy?"

"Manners, Yuri."

"This, uncle." Yuri snorted, grinning. 

Well, the siblings did share that godawful grin of satisfaction.

Chris chuckled,"you know, I am younger than your brother, right?"

"Yes, uncle Chris."

Viktor giggled. "I think he likes you, Chris," he whispered loudly.

Chris rolled his eyes, "I'm being persecuted. Here, let me help you with the dishes." Chris took Yuri's and Viktor's empty plates, standing and making his way over to the sink.

"Really, you're our guest, it's not necessary." Viktor smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Chris was pretty sure he'd died and gone to heaven. In what reality was Viktor Nikiforov such an angel? Chris was pulled out of his trance by a small hand tugging on the back of his shirt.

"Chris?"

"Yes?" He paused and looked down at the pair of green eyes drilling upwards.

"Prove yourself to me. I challenge you to a game of Bubble Trouble. First to two wins," Yuri screeched, pointing a finger straight at Chris' face.

Chris laughed and looked at Viktor, he wasn't serious right? Viktor looked as dead serious as his brother. Viktor glanced at his watch.

"My, if you'd look at the time!" He reached out and scooped Yuri off the ground despite the boy's screeching protest, balancing him on his hip. "It's bedtime, Yura. Bubble Trouble challenges will have to wait till next time."

Yuri tucked his chin on Viktor's shoulder, turning to smile at Chris. "Yeah, next time."

Chris nodded dumbly, following as Viktor carried his brother to the bathroom where he promptly left him to get ready for bed. Chris followed Viktor silently back to the master bedroom.

"We should probably get you back to the hotel, it's about time anyway." Viktor murmured, bending over to pick up a tie and jacket off the floor, shoving it into Chris' arms absently. 

The otherwise silent activity of the pair searching for discarded items of clothing was interrupted.

"Viktor, Chris! Tuck me in!" Yuri screeched.

Viktor let out a low chuckle, grabbing Chris by the wrist, dragged him over to Yuri's room. Chris watched awkwardly as Viktor tucked the boy in. He pressed a gentle kiss to the boy's forehead. It was hard to believe, no, it just couldn't be possible, that this man was the same White Demon of Russia. He just couldn't be.

 

Viktor was more than happy to drive Chris back to the hotel and even went as far as to walk him to his room.

"You'll consider my job offer then?" Viktor asked.

Chris paused,"consider it accepted."

"You don't need to think it over?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, that's settled. I'll try arranging things with your dad."

"Thanks, Viktor."

Viktor shrugged. "No problem. I'll call him in a few days. Wouldn't want to come off as too keen, now would we?"

"Yeah."

"Well, goodnight then, Chris. I'll see you at next year's conference?" Viktor smiled, turning to leave.

"Yeah, next year. Goodnight."

Viktor walked a few paces before stopping and turning. "Oh. And."

"Yeah?" Chris hadn't even reached for his room key yet.

"Thanks for the fun tonight." Viktor winked, and left with that.

A blush crawled across Chris' face. "Ugh." He clutched his phone to his chest as he walked into his hotel room.

Viktor had given him his phone number so he could text him whenever, but it wasn't like Russian mobsters had all the free time in the world and it wasn't like Viktor was expecting anything of their one night stand. This was strictly business, of course.

 

Little did either of them know that they'd be seeing each other much, much sooner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooh! Looking forward to the next chapter, Viktor and Yuuri are finally gonna be reunited <333 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the update xD, subscribe, bookmark, kudos if you enjoyed! See you next week, Monday as usual.


	18. Step 3: Adoration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the Current Timeline: Viktor and Yuuri are finally reunited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our precious boys are finally reunited! YES?! JUST...read it. I love these two too much to separate them any longer.
> 
> Also, just a warning ahead of time. This fic is going to go on for a while longer, but around October/November I may be too busy to post. I wanted to reassure you that I will not stop and even if I can't post weekly like I usually do I will try my absolute best to post as often as I can.

 

Present time, Detroit 2017

 

"So you've scouted the warehouse out?" Yuuri muttered, flicking through a few photos.

"Uh, yeah," Phichit replied.

"Nothing out of the ordinary?"

"Well, I mean, since Viktor's sent us there it seemed pretty obvious it was a drug storage warehouse."

"True." Yuuri shifted a pile of photos out of his lap and placed them further away on the bed.

"You know, I'm kind of surprised, Yuuri..."

"Why?"

"Why did he help you?"

Yuuri paused, taking a moment to think his answer over. "He wants to take Crispino down. He knows I'll make it happen."

Phichit opened his mouth, the question had been plaguing him since Yuuri had been returned safely and relatively unharmed. Viktor could've left Yuuri to die for all he cared, he could've helped the police either way. Why go to the trouble of hiring a team of mercenaries to keep Yuuri safe? Other than a slightly better guarantee that this would go through with Yuuri around, there was only one sure reason that made sense to Phichit. The one reason that probably made the least logical sense, but then again love never really was sensible, was it? Phichit was almost certain that Yuuri didn't know. If he did he probably would've said or done something. But maybe it was better if Yuuri didn't know.

"Are you gonna be discharged in time for the raid?"

"No, I bet Celestino made sure I wouldn't be able to. I'm absolutely fine, can't anyone else see that?" Yuuri shook his fist in teasing anger, a small smile on his lips.

"You know...I could, hypothetically, set you up with a video feed."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's probably not allowed, but I mean, if Celestino doesn't know then what's the harm?"

Yuuri grinned. "You're the best, Phich."

 

* * *

 

Yuuri drummed his fingers against the cool metal of Phichit's laptop in his lap. 

"Hey, can you hear me?"

"Yeah, barely."

"I won't be talking but you should get the feed just fine."

"Okay." Yuuri watched as the video feed flickered for a second, Phichit's face replaced with a black screen, only to be quickly replaced with a shaky feed of what appeared to be the inside of the warehouse.

"Hands up! DPD! Keep your hands where I can see them!" A voice roared causing Yuuri to flinch.

Okay, maybe he shouldn't be playing this out loud in a hospital. Yuuri punched the mute button and started digging around for his earphones.

"They're somewhere around here." Yuuri let out a grunt of frustration. "Somewhere here."

 

By the time Yuuri found his earphones and managed to untangle the infuriating things the raid was practically over, to his discontent.

"Yuuri??? Yuuri where'd you go?"

"Oh, sorry, I had to get my earphones."

"Are you serious? It's already over."

"Really? Ugh. Did I miss something?" Yuuri groaned.

"Uh, not really. We haven't found Viktor so far but- holy shit! I'll be right back."

Yuuri cocked his head to a side as his computer flickered back to another camera, probably on one of the men. 

Celestino was standing in the rain, his arms crossed. A man who looked a little older than him knelt before him in the rain. 

"Where's Viktor?" Celestino asked.

"Viktor fucking Nikiforov? He's probably half way to Moscow by now!" The old man spat.

"Captain!" A man cried, jogging into view of the camera.

"Yes?"

"No signs of Nikiforov, except for this." The man handed a light blue envelope over to Celestino.

Yuuri tilted his head to a side. What was with Viktor and blue stuff? It was a pretty blue and all, like his eyes but... Yuuri shook his head, his attention drawn back to the video.

"Chulanont!" Celestino roared, waving the envelope around as Phichit flittered into the frame. "Take this." He grunted, shoving the letter into Phichit's hands.

Yuuri strained to hear Celestino's last few words. "Guess I'll just ask Phichit later." Yuuri murmured.

 

* * *

  

The sun sat just a little over the horizon, basking down over row upon row of stone graves. A soft breeze fluttered over the lifeless scene. Viktor placed the bouquet of blue roses down beside the gravestone gently, as if not to wake a soul.

"Hi, mum. I brought your favourites." He paused, smiling to himself as he crouched in front of the grave.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited in a while. I've been a little busy, with work and stuff. Okay, that's a lie, you probably knew I was lying anyway. I got arrested. Hilarious, right?"

He laughed at his own stupidity. Did the dead even listen?

"If you were alive, you probably wouldn't be proud of me. I know, I'm sorry, but my apologies would never be enough. I didn't turn out much better than dad, did I?" Viktor laughed bitterly.

"I'm sorry. Ugh, I already apologised, sorry. Oh my god, I just. Ah. Sor- okay I just need to stop." 

Viktor glanced up, his silver locks flowing in the wind.

"I'm doing this for Yuratchka. Only for him, I won't stop till the world is a safer place for him." Viktor paused.

"I made some friends though, I think you'd like to meet them. They're cool, but rather ironically they're all cops. Hard to say if they like me or if they're stuck with me."

Viktor glanced up, watching a man walk across the cemetery in the distance.

"There's one guy, in particular, Yuuri. Yeah, he has the same name as our own little Yuri, but it's spelt with two Us and he's Japanese. Cool, right?"

Viktor pressed his forehead into his hand. 

"Mama, tell me what to do. Tell me what's wrong or right. I want everything for Yura, but is it wrong to want something for myself?"

 

* * *

 

Detroit, the next day

 

As scheduled, Yuuri spent one more day at the hospital before being discharged. He took a taxi straight to the precinct, he was not going to waste another day. Yuuri hopped out of the taxi, a small smile on his face, it was a lovely feeling, one he hadn't felt in a while. The feeling you got when you walked into your home rink after such a long time away.

Yuuri strode by Yuuko's cubicle, shooting her a quick, "morning, Yuuko."

Yuuko glanced up, her jaw dropped in complete shock. "Yuuri?" She screeched.

This seemed to get everyone's attention, as some people stood, staring wide-eyed as he strode right up to Phichit's desk. Unluckily for his best friend, he loved his noise-cancelling headphones. Yuuri stood behind him, grinning wolfishly, he slapped his hands down on Phichit's shoulders.

"Surprise!" He cheered.

Phichit screamed. Well, screaming was a massive understatement. He shrieked so loudly Celestino jumped out of his office and anyone that might've been napping that morning was rudely awoken.

 

Of course, Yuuri was grounded, he was told to sit in his seat and stay there. Asides from lunch he spent a few hours greeting old friends and catching up on things that had been happening around the place. It occurred to him that he'd forgotten to ask Phichit about the letter Viktor had left.

"Phich."

"Mm. Yes?"

"That letter that Viktor left, what was in it?"

"Yes." Phichit murmured, his fingers continue to tap rapidly across his keyboard.

"Phich? Are you listening to me?" Yuuri chuckled.

"Yes."

"Phichit, do potatoes run at 60 km/h?"

"Yeah man."

"Phichit." Yuuri poked him in the face.

"Oh, what? Yeah?"

"Listen to me."

"I was," Phichit whined. "Okay, maybe I was a little distracted."

"I asked you if potatoes could run- okay you know what? Nevermind. That letter that Viktor left, what was in it?"

Phichit half-closed the lid of his laptop, smiling to himself. "The letter?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it wasn't exactly a letter. I'll get it for you, stay right here."

"Okay, okay. I'm not a kid, you don't need to tell me to stay still."

Phichit slinked off, leaving Yuuri to himself for a few minutes. He sighed and looked out across the office towards the room where Viktor usually stayed. Yuuri pressed a hand to his chest, the hole in his chest throbbing.

"Oi, Yuuri, you okay?"

"What? Yeah." Yuuri whipped around, he hadn't noticed when Phichit came back. 

"Here, you can take a look yourself. Sorry, it was addressed to you, but we already opened it."

Yuuri shrugged, taking the blue card from his friend. His name was penned in delicate loops across the centre. Yuuri glanced up at Phichit who simply sat there, hands clasped in his lap, and smiling expectantly. Yuuri looked back down at the letter in his lap, he wasn't sure what he was expecting, but a certain apprehension hung over him. He flicked the card open, his mouth forming a perfect O.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Phichit murmured.

"Y...yeah."

There wasn't a single word on the page. Instead, it was filled with a sketch. In the centre Yuuri sat, a half eaten slice of pizza in one hand and a cup of what he assumed to be mocha in the other. To his right, Minami was chatting away excitedly to Leo and Guang Hong. On Yuuri's left, Phichit seemed to be hugging the pizza box and in the middle of shoving a rolled up slice into his mouth. As much as Yuuri marvelled at the details of the background and the expressions of his friends, his eyes were constantly drawn back to himself in the centre. 

 

He remembered this. He'd been laughing so hard his jaw had started to hurt and tears of mirth had been pouring down his face. There was something about the way he had been drawn, his face, his eyes, his body. They all looked right, but something was different. The way the light filtered softly through the windows around him, reflecting off his black locks. It was as if everything else had ceased to matter and Yuuri was frozen in time at the centre of the universe. While everyone else seemed to be looking away, Yuuri's soft brown eyes seemed to stare right back out of the paper at him, well, straight at whoever was looking at the drawing. 

 

That was odd. Yuuri was certain that Viktor had been there with them, eating pizza even if his hands were cuffed, he hadn't seemed bothered at all. Yuuri let out a little gasp, of course, he'd been looking at it all wrong. The drawing wasn't simply capturing a moment in time. It was how Viktor had seen this moment. Yuuri pondered, that if Viktor had drawn this after he'd left them, how had he remembered so many fine details? Phichit interrupted his chain of thought, pulling him back into the present.

"Yuuri, check out these weird letters in the corner." Phichit pointed at a few faint letters printed in the bottom right corner.

Yuuri traced his fingers over the letters "виктор".

"Don't they look interesting? It's-"

"Viktor. Cyrillic for Viktor." Yuuri muttered, quickly regretting how quick he'd been to say that.

"Oh, you knew?"

"I know a little bit of Russian."

Phichit rolled his eyes. "Uhuh, and this 'little bit' includes the spelling of Viktor's name. Tell me, what languages don't you know?"

"Come on, I only know English, Japanese, Italian, Spanish and a touch of Russian." Yuuri punched Phichit's shoulder playfully.

"What are you two doing?" Celestino grunted from behind them.

With a single deft movement, Yuuri closed the card and slipped it under Phichit's laptop. Force of habit. He panicked, what was he supposed to be hiding anyway? Phichit tapped away at his keyboard like he'd been doing something, but from this close Yuuri could see the sweat beading on his forehead.

"Stuff." Yuuri choked out.

He groaned internally, of all the answers in the world.

"Yuuri, why don't you head home early? Phichit has got a lot of work to do tonight. Don't you, Phichit?" Celestino placed a heavy hand on Phichit's shoulder.

"Yes, captain." He squeaked.

"I'll call for some men to escort you home, Yuuri."

"That's not necessary."

"I insist." He replied, a knowing smile on his face.

Yuuri shrugged. "If you can spare the men then I guess, why not?"

 

* * *

 

Yuuri stepped out of the car and pulled his coat closer around his shoulders, it was fucking cold. The two patrolmen who had been sent with him to escort him home now followed, both exchanging confused glances. He was supposed to be staying at Minako's with Phichit. He hadn't really given them a decent reason to stop by the safe house, Yuuri hadn't really thought of one yet. They knew what this place was. Yuuri shuffled to the front door, digging through his pockets till he found the key. He pushed the door open hurriedly, stripping off his coat in the warm house.

 

Wait. It should be freezing cold in here. Yuuri gestured to the men behind him, the closer one passing him a gun. Yuuri weighed it in his hand, it felt too heavy, no, too light. He grimaced, holding the gun up as he inched forward, treading carefully. Light poured into the dark corridor from the kitchen, the sound of gentle humming bouncing off the plaster walls. Yuuri paused at the entrance to the kitchen, gesturing at the men to wait for his signal. Cautiously, Yuuri peeked his head around the edge of the doorway, muscles taut and ready to move in an instant if needed. But instead, he relaxed, every muscle melting as he realised why that tune was so familiar. The man sang it when he danced across the ice, he sang it absentmindedly when he was cooking in the kitchen or when he was watching youtube videos of figure skating and last but not least, he was singing it when Yuuri found him cradling Mila Babicheva's bloodied head in his lap. The beautiful, mournful tones haunted his dreams.

 

"V...Viktor?"

Viktor spun around, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Yuuri! I heard you were being discharged from the hospital today. So I figured I'd cook something," Viktor chirped, waving a spatula about.

"Viktor, what are you doing here?" Yuuri asked, lowering his gun.

"I could ask you the same thing."

Yuuri stared at the man. His jacket was draped neatly over a chair nearby, the sleeves of his crisp, white shirt rolled up to his elbows. The baby pink apron draped effortlessly across his frame looking even more ridiculous than usual with a gun peeking out of one of the front pockets. Almost seeming to sense his lingering gaze Viktor reached for the gun.

"I should probably return this to you." Viktor sighed, pulling Yuuri's gun out of his apron pocket and sliding it across the table.

The other man grabbed the gun, glancing at the two other policemen who now stood tenser than ever in the doorway. Yuuri unloaded the gun, eyes checking at the magazine.

"Nice to know you didn't shoot anyone while you were gone."

_I missed you._

"Ha, how would you know? Sit, Yuuri. Try my borscht. It's probably the only thing I can cook properly."

_I missed you too._

"Last time you were here said you could cook Spaghetti Bolognese. That was shit."

_Why did you have to leave?_

"My shitty apologies, your majesty," Viktor sighed, "I do not need this negativity in my life though, Yuuri."

_I'm sorry._

Viktor placed the two plates of borscht on the table, motioning for Yuuri to sit. Hesitantly, Yuuri pulled out a seat, shoving his gun into one of his pockets and sitting down

"So, how was your stay at the hospital."

"Uneventful," Yuuri answered, tugging the shallow bowl of borscht closer.

"I call bullshit. You probably watched the entire raid from a laptop. You would've been there if you could help it." Viktor laughed, pausing from his meal to watch Yuuri curiously.

"How did you... Nevermind. Why is this so goddamn red." Yuuri grumbled, stabbing at something solid floating in the soup.

"It's dyed with the blood of my enemies MUAHAHAHA."

Yuuri cracked a smile, he couldn't help himself, "that was a shit joke. The borscht is even better than that joke."

"That was a great joke. which means the borscht is legendary." Viktor quipped back.

Yuuri turned to his escorts, guns still held cautiously, rolling his eyes, he waved them off, "your job here is done. I've been escorted home. Feel free to leave whenever, there's some beer and stuff in the fridge, if you want some of that as well."

"W...with all due respect-" The older man started.

"I can handle myself." Yuuri interrupted before turning back to the borscht in front of him.

The two policemen shared a glance before quietly excusing themselves and shuffling out of the kitchen. Yuuri and Viktor waited until the familiar click of the front door closing left them once again enveloped in silence. They ate quietly, not bothering to avoid each other's gazes.

"Home, eh?" Viktor asked, a small smile on his face.

"Home is where the food is. And Phichit can't really cook to save his life." Yuuri replied, a small brush creeping onto his cheek.

"So you're saying I could cook to save my life?" Viktor laughed, shooting Yuuri his heart shaped smile.

It had felt like so long since Yuuri had seen that smile and so long since Viktor had shown it to anyone. They ate in silence for a few minutes.

"There's a name inscribed on your gun."

Yuuri fished the gun out of his pocket and slowly placed it on the table between them. "Yeah. It was my sister's."

"Your sister is a cop?"

"Was a cop. She passed away."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Viktor cringed visibly.

"It's okay." Yuuri shrugged, stabbing at a piece of, what he assumed to be, potato in his borscht.

Viktor left the conversation there, letting Yuuri choose whether he wished to speak or not.

"Viktor?"

"Yes?"

"You look tired. What have you been doing? It's only been a day since the raid, but you look like you haven't slept at all."

"Ah, I drove to Cleveland. So you're right in saying that I haven't gotten that much sleep." He smiled apologetically.

"Cleveland?"

"Yeah, it was my mum's birthday, so I thought I'd visit her grave."

"Oh."

Viktor shrugged.

"This conversation sure went downhill quickly huh?" Viktor chuckled nervously.

Yuuri snorted and gave a little shrug. "Do you wanna drink, or are you too tired for that?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Viktor smirked, "I've got a few bottles of vodka in the back of the car."

"This is a terrible habit."

"Hey, it's actually the good stuff this time." Viktor grinned and raised his hand in a mock toast.

"How good?"

"Only the best for us." Viktor winked, getting up out of his chair. "Where are the shot glasses?" He called as he plucked his keys off the benchtop.

"Exactly where I left them, hopefully."

Viktor paused in the doorway, an amused smile on his lips. "Do you remember where you left them?"

"No," Yuuri grumbled, rolling his eyes and throwing open cupboard after cupboard in his search.

 

Yuuri did eventually find the shot glasses and the two of them got comfortable on either side of the tiny coffee table in the living room. 

"I'm planning on not getting too drunk this time."

"If you say so," Viktor replied sarcastically.

"I'm serious."

"Sure."

"No, really, Viktor. You're a much better drunk than I am so you've got to stop me if I'm drinking too much."

"I couldn't possibly." Viktor gasped, pressing a hand to his chest dramatically. "You're too adorable when you're drunk."

"Thanks, I guess?" Yuuri muttered, keeping his blushing face down as he poured them both their first shots.

Yuuri plucked his glass off the table, immediately moving to tip it all right down his throat, only for Viktor to grab his wrist, holding him in a surprisingly tight grip.

"Wait." Viktor chuckled, "one thing first."

"Viktor, you're killing me here."

"Patience." Viktor chided, slapping Yuuri on the wrist while grabbing his own glass with his other hand.

He raised his glass, a triumphant grin on his face. "To a better tomorrow."

Yuuri's grin softened, a slight sparkle in his eye. "Yeah, to a better tomorrow. And.."

Viktor cocked his head to a side.

"To second chances." Yuuri declared, his voice falling to a soft whisper, his eyes locked onto Viktor's.

Viktor's eyes widened. Yuuri's steady gaze was one of firm resolve. It wasn't exactly a toast per se, it was something else that Viktor couldn't quite put his hand on. A request?

"To a better tomorrow and second chances." Viktor murmured.

The quiet clink of glasses filled the silence before they both tipped their glasses back, Yuuri letting out a groan of appreciation after he swallowed.

"Good?" Viktor chuckled.

"Yes. God, yes." 

 

* * *

  

Later that night (or very early the next morning depending on how you see it)...

 

They'd unanimously decided, two to zero, that they were firstly, too tired to move from where they were, secondly, too drunk to move from where they were and last but not least, that Viktor was indeed the better drinker. Yuuri complained that they already knew that so Viktor should stop rubbing it in. So they grabbed cushions off the couch as pillows and snatched a single blanket just big enough for the two of them with a safe space of 40 centimetres between them. Yuuri, sadly enough for Viktor, was sober enough to remember what personal space was.

 

Of course, that didn't stop Yuuri, who had turned to face Viktor in his sleep, from monopolising the entire blanket the moment Viktor let his guard down. He was bundled up on his side, snoring quietly, and Viktor couldn't really bring himself to care. So that's how the pair ended up sleeping on their living room floor like it was the most normal thing in the world. As if, for this moment in time, Viktor was not a crime boss and Yuuri was not the cop in charge of keeping him in line. Man, if Chris saw this right now.

 

Viktor turned on his side and propped his chin up on his elbow. He reached out with a slender finger to graze a strand of Yuuri's hair, letting it fall gently back against the younger man's moonlit face. Viktor smiled to himself.

"You're like an angel Yuuri, so beautiful," he whispered, "but I want to know what dyed those wings such a lovely black." 

A sad smiled crossed his face. Yuuri was not what Viktor had thought he would be. In reality, the detective was more than Viktor had imagined. He was a stuttering, mumbling, human mess. He was tough, and yet, still gentle and kind in ways that Viktor had yet to grasp. Even while dealing with people should've been Viktor's game, Yuuri Katsuki never ceased to surprise him. And Viktor just came running back for more.

"This is okay." He murmured to himself, "this is more than enough."

 

Step 3: Adoration (Addiction)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That feeling when Viktor doesn't even understand the level that he is whipped. Next chapter we're getting a little snippet of Yuri's life in St. Petersburg too. Until next time, hope you enjoy the chapter, comments, kudos, subscriptions and bookmarks are all very appreciated.


	19. When the Moon Sets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! Without further ado, here is the new chapter.

 

 

Yuuri groaned, his eyes peeling open as the sound of banging on the door, a window, something, jackhammered its way into his head. 

"Yuuri! Open up!" Phichit shrieked.

Yuuri squinted, looking around. Looking down, he realised why his chest felt so heavy. Viktor snored away peacefully despite the racket, his head tucked on Yuuri's chest and an arm and leg tossed over Yuuri's body. Yuuri rolled his eyes. Somehow, during the night the man had managed to roll across the distance between them and drape himself across Yuuri. While Yuuri probably would've been content with letting Viktor stay there, Phichit was still banging insistently at the door. Slowly and cautiously Yuuri peeled Viktor's limbs away, shifting the man's head as gently as he could to a pillow and pulling the blanket up over his shoulders. Yuuri stood up cautiously, using the coffee table for balance, and staggered over to the door. After what felt like an eternity of trying to get all the locks unlocked (seriously who needs that many locks) and the combined pressure of Phichit banging on the door and screaming, he threw the door open and pressed a finger to his lips.

"Hi." He whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" Phichit growled.

"I have a headache. Why are you here?"

"Why am I here?" Phichit hissed as loudly as talking in a whisper would allow him. "You, Yuuri, were meant to go straight home to Minako's after you left the precinct. And you know what, I got there at like 8 o'clock and Minako said she hadn't even seen you!"

A quiet, "fuck," resounded inside Yuuri's head.

"And then, it gets better. I can't even track you down and you're not responding to my texts, so we go to bed and then I wake up the next morning and I've got this text from you at 2 am." Phichit shoved his phone in Yuuri's face.

Yuuri squinted at the text and read it out loud, to his immediate regret. "Vitya is beautiful." A blush crept across his face as he groaned.

"Have you been drinking?"

Yuuri coughed and covered his mouth. "Maybe."

"Yuuri, what the hell," Phichit growled, pushing his way into the house.

"P...phichit, I can expla-" Yuuri stuttered.

Phichit stood frozen in the hallway, his eyes locked onto the living room floor. Yuuri barely had a moment to think, his instincts kicking in as Phichit dropped his coffee, Yuuri diving to catch it.

"Explain why you have a Russian sleeping on your floor." Phicit murmured, not really noticing when Yuuri put his coffee mug back into his hand and closed his fingers back around it.

Yuuri scratched his head. "I don't know what to say. He came back, just like he said he would."

"Holy shit. How has he not woken up? What, with all the noise I made."

Yuuri shrugged, "he was exhausted." 

Phichit surveyed the living room. There were two pillows on the ground and a blanket, it wasn't a jump for Phichit to understand that they'd slept on the floor, together. Viktor was curled up on his side, but he shifted, the blanket slipping to reveal a bare shoulder. Phichit turned with a horrified expression to look at his friend. "Did you sleep with him?"

"Yes, I mean no. UGH. No like, but yes as in we slept together. Not in that way, like we were just sleeping." Yuuri stammered, his entire face turned into a bright tomato. "We didn't have sex." He whispered, hoping Phichit managed to understand.

Phichit raised an eyebrow. "Okay."

"We should probably wake him up."

"Yeah."

Yuuri tottered over and knelt, shaking Viktor by the shoulder lightly.

"Viktor. Viktor, wake up." He murmured.

Viktor turned and groaned, his fingers lunging out to grab a handful of Yuuri's singlet and yanking him down into his chest.

"Just another 5 minutes, Yuri." He mumbled, stroking Yuuri's hair. "I'll cook you w...whatever you want for breakfast."

Yuuri's screeching was muffled by Viktor's chest as he battered the man's chest with his fists. Phichit couldn't help but laugh. Yuuri was being suffocated against Viktor's pecs despite all his protest. Suddenly, Viktor's eyes flew open, his hand moving in a blur across the coffee table, snatching up his gun and pointing it at Phichit, his other arm clutching Yuuri to his chest as he craned his neck to look at Phichit. The Thai man held his breath, trying not to move a single muscle other than the ones he needed to breathe and keep his blood moving. Viktor blinked and breathing heavily, seemed to recognise his error. He clicked the safety off and tossed the gun back onto the coffee table and let his head fall back to the ground with a huff. Viktor eyed Phichit momentarily, his eyes making a silent apology before releasing Yuuri from his grasp. Yuuri sat up and scrambled away until he was backed up against the couch.

"Good morning," Viktor chirped, shooting Yuuri his signature grin.

"O...ohayo." Yuuri choked out, his blush getting even redder. 

Phichit facepalmed. Did either of them have their heads screwed on right?

"B...breakfast." Yuuri stuttered out, scrambling to his feet and dashing to the kitchen.

 

Eventually, Yuuri did get breakfast cooked and Viktor did find his shirt, somewhere. After breakfast was done Yuuri excused himself to go shower, leaving Phichit and Viktor alone at the breakfast table. Phichit sipped politely at his coffee, trying his damnedest not to stare or even look at Viktor. He wondered what kind of life one must have to lead if their first reaction was to wake up and point a gun at whoever woke them up. His knee-jerk reaction of holding Yuuri even closer was surprising as well.

"Hey, Phichit." Viktor murmured, putting his coffee down.

"Yeah?"

"Could I ask you a question?"

Phichit stroked his chin, adopting a mischievous grin. "If I can ask you a question as well."

Viktor's eyes narrowed. "Sure, but I'm going first."

Phichit nodded, putting his coffee down. "Go ahead."

"Has Yuuri ever had a tattoo?"

Phichit raised an eyebrow, that was an odd question. "You of all people should know that." He watched, amused as the tips of Viktor's ears turned red despite his blank face.

"So, has he or not?"

"He has, but how'd you know?"

"I saw a really faint outline on his shoulders, wasn't sure if I was imagining it or not."

"Damn, you've got good eyes. Yeah, he had it lasered off. I never actually got to see it myself but he drew me a picture of the design once. I've probably gotten it on my phone somewhere."

"Ooh, could I see it?"

"Maybe after you answer my question," Phichit smirked.

Viktor pouted. "Fine."

Phichit grinned. "Is Yuuri a top or a bottom? He's never told me."

Viktor chuckled, giving Phichit a knowing look. "You've asked?"

"I tried. He wasn't really keen on sharing." 

 "I can't speak for Yuuri, but from my experience, he seemed to enjoy being on top."

Phichit whistled.

"Show me Yuuri's tattoo."

Phichit laughed. "Guess you'll have to answer another one of my questions if you want to see it."

"Ugh, fine. Just show me the picture already."

Phichit dug his phone out of his pocket and scrolled avidly through his numerous selfies.

"While I'm looking for the pic, answer my  second question."

"Sure, but I swear to god if this is about my sex life-"

"Oh darling, I'm not interested in you. I want to know what Yuuri was doing when you first met him."

Viktor smirked and leant back in his chair. "He was pole dancing."

Phichit scoffed. "Noooo...noooo way. You're kidding."

"Not even in the slightest. And he's good, you know." Viktor winked.

"Oh my gaawwwd!" Phichit squealed.

"Okay, fair deal, show me the pic."

"Yeah, yeah. Give me a second." Phichit unlocked his phone and passed it to Viktor.

Phichit looked away for just a moment, by the time he turned back Viktor looked like he'd seen a ghost. 

"C...cool isn't it?"

Viktor was pale already, but he looked even more pale than usual.

"Viktor?" Phichit was worried now, Viktor's looked like he was gonna drop his phone.

"Oh, y...yeah it's cool." Viktor stammered.

Phichit took the phone back. "It's a Crane, I think, you know the bird. Yuuri had it done when he was in Japan."

"Japan?"

"Yeah, work related stuff apparently. Helped him blend in or something."

Viktor swallowed visibly.

"Is everything alright, Viktor?"

Yuuri chose that precise moment to stride into the kitchen.

"Hey, Yuuri." Viktor chirped, putting on The Smile™

"Hey, Viktor, you should see this." Yuuri leant forward, squeaking when the towel balanced precariously on his head fell forward, covering his face.

He yanked the towel back onto his head, pouting, to Viktor's amusement.

"Is that what you wanted to show me?" The Russian teased.

"Shut up. Here, watch this video." Yuuri handed his phone over.

Viktor tapped the play button, the audio immediately roaring the life. It was fairly dark, from the strobe lights flashing in the background it was a club. Screaming erupted in the background.

"Leave me alone!" A familiar voice growled in Russian-accented English.

The camera shifted, the bright flash falling upon a pair of emerald green eyes and shimmering, shoulder-length blonde hair. As the disgruntled young man desperately tried to cover his face Viktor's own expression became more and more horrified. A figure, whose face remained unseen, dashed into the frame, covering the boy's head with a jacket and ushering him out. As the video stopped, Yuuri plucked the phone back out of Viktor's hands.

"Elite Russian Figure Skater, Yuri Plisetsky, caught partying underage at a nightclub in St. Petersburg," Yuuri stated.

Phichit snickered, "Oh, those who live in the fast lane, party hard and die early."

Viktor just sat there, gawking, his expression somewhere between being mildly offended and shocked.

Yuuri continued reading snippets of the article. "People nearby and bar staff have testified that the teen had not been drinking. Plisetsky has not responded when asked for a comment however, it is well known that the DJ in-house that night, Black Panther, is a good friend of Plisetsky's." 

"Oh dear. Think he'll be punished?"

"Probably. Though the kid wasn't doing anything too bad was he?" Yuuri shrugged.

"Yeah, he wasn't drinking." Phichit patted Viktor on the shoulder rapidly. "It'll be okay Viktor, don't look so down."

Viktor was paling, even more than before. Yuuri swallowed. "Really, Viktor, it'll be okay, I'm sure they'll let him off easy."

"What an idiot." Phichit sighed.

"Y...yeah," Viktor muttered, still recovering from the shock. 

"Man, Viktor, if you could like, make some calls and smooth everything out with the Russian Skating Union." Phichit mused.

"I could've." Viktor shrugged. "A bit late now."

"What?" Yuuri and Phichit choked.

"We're not the Bratva for nothing. We have money and people everywhere, probably couldn't cover up something this big though."

 

* * *

 

 

On the other side of the World in Saint Petersburg, Russia.

 

Yuri's hands were held in iron fists on his lap, his heart hammering in his ears. He was fucked.

"You're grounded," Chris stated, crossing his arms.

"What?"

"I said, you're grounded."

"You can't-"

"I can't what, Yuri, Ground you?"

Yuri picked a spot on the ground and glared at it. Chris was pissed, and Yuri had thought that simply wasn't possible.

"Yes, I can't keep an eye on you and even Otabek doesn't have all day to babysit you."

Yuri glanced at Otabek who was sitting next to them, his face held in a calm, stoic expression. Otabek didn't seem so bothered when he of all people should have every right to be pissed. Yuri had followed him to club without him even knowing and Beka had to leave in the middle of the night to save Yuri from the paparazzi.

"You're going to your Grandpa's place a few days early."

Yuri whipped his head up. "What?"

"I already called Nikolai and asked him, he said it was fine."

"Oh."

"I can't babysit you, but your Dedushka sure as hell can. Oh and, take Otabek with you while you're at it."

Otabek raised an eyebrow.

"Take Beka with me?" Yuri questioned.

"Yeah. I'm gonna be away for a while cleaning up your shit. Wouldn't want him to be left alone in the house now would I?"

"He's a grown ass ma-"

"I already asked your Grandpa. It's fine."

Yuri looked over at Otabek, who also looked to be hearing about this for the first time.

"Fine," Yuri grunted, he had no idea what was going on but he didn't really have a choice but to agree.

"Yuri, go pack your stuff." Chris huffed.

Yuri leapt to his feet and padded as calmly as he could towards his bedroom. He was being uncharacteristically obedient, but he knew a serious order when he heard one.

 

Chris waited till the sound of Yuri's bedroom door shutting echoed down the hallway.

"I am so sorry." Otabek murmured.

"Don't apologise. We both know that if you'd known he was gonna sneak out, you would've stopped him. It's not your fault."

"I knew something was off."

"There's nothing you could've done. All we can hope now is that the ISU will go easy on him."

Otabek nodded.

"I hope you didn't have anything planned with your family for the week."

"We were going to go to a family dinner on Sunday. If that's alright with you?"

"Yeah, that should be fine, make sure Nikolai knows. I feel a lot better knowing you're with him when he's outside the rink." Chris sighed and collapsed backwards against the couch, "I need a drink, a lot of drinks."

"Save it for when the week is over."

"Yeah, I will. Go check on Yuri for me, when you're both done packing I'll drive you over to Nikolai's."

Otabek nodded and stood up, leaving the suffocating air of the living room as quickly as his feet could carry him. He paused outside Yuri's door, listening for any sounds. He rapped his knuckles against the door.

"Yura?"

"Come in," Yuri grumbled, his voice muffled by the door.

Otabek stuck his head in first before stepping into the room fully and shutting the door behind him.

"Hey." Otabek murmured.

"Hi."

"How's the packing going?"

Yuri tossed a glare in Otabek's direction. "Fine." He grunted, rolling up a shirt and tossing it into his leopard print suitcase.

"Don't forget Potya."

Yuri scoffed,"like hell. I'd leave it all behind for her."

"Even your skates?" Otabek chuckled.

"Okay, fine, loser. All I need is Potya, my skates...and you."

"Well you've got Potya and I covered. Grab your skates and let's go."

"Okay, fucker, I get your point. I'm not that desperate, I still need some things." Yuri reached into his cupboard, pulled out an assortment of a dozen t-shirts, each a slightly different tiger print, and tossed them into his suitcase.

"I'm gonna go pack."

"Kay. I should be done by the time you're finished."

Otabek nodded and left the room. He peered down the hallway to where Chris appeared to be pacing, clutching his phone to his ear desperately. He seemed to have sensed Otabek watching. He turned and waved the younger man off, providing a tired smile. Otabek strode to his room and tossed the few items he knew he'd need for the week into a small suitcase. 

 

A little over 5 minutes later the pair wheeled their suitcases out to where Chris had the car idled. Otabek tossed their cases into the boot and stalked off towards the garage.Yuri opened his mouth to ask him where he was going, but Chris interrupted, holding up a hand.

"Get in the car, Yuri. Otabek is going to get his bike, he'll be following after us."

"Ah, okay." Yuri slid into the car, clutching Potya in her carrier to his lap.

 

Yuri arrived first, not even bothering to help Chris with the luggage as he skipped up the front steps of his grandfather's house. The older man opened the door with a flourish and a grin on his face.

"Dedushka!" Yuri squealed, jumping and hugging the man.

"M...my back," Nikolai groaned, letting out a sigh as Yuri released him from his clutches.

"I'm sorry, I'm always forgetting." Yuri laughed nervously, bending down to place Potya's cat carrier on the ground and unlatching the door, letting her wander into the house.

"How have you been?"

Yuri swallowed. Surely he knew about the clubbing incident. "Great. Man, it has felt like ages since I was last here." Yuri looked around. As expected, nothing much had changed in the few weeks he'd been gone.

"It's good to have you back."

Yuri flinched when a voice called loudly from the front of the house. Otabek was just pulling up in the driveway.

"Yuri!" Otabek grunted. "The only thing you didn't leave at the curbside was Potya."

"Oh, whoops." Yuri scratched the back of his head, peering through the window in amusement as Otabek struggled with dragging Yuri's oversized luggage up the footpath.

Nikolai eyed the scene guardedly. "That Altin boy, is he a bad influence on you, Yura?"

Yuri scoffed, "you're kidding right?" He turned to face Nikolai, noting that the man's expression was one of complete seriousness.

"I read in the news about-"

"It's not Otabek's fault. It was completely my idea, if he'd known, he would've stopped me."

"How old is he?"

"18?"

"He rides a motorbike and works at a place like that, how can you say he's not a bad influence? He's older than you."

Yuri groaned, "just, take a day and get to know him yourself. You'll see."

At that precise moment, Otabek stumbled through the doorway, putting the suitcases down with a huff. 

"Beka. This is my dedushka." Yuri gestured towards his grandfather.

Otabek offered a handshake which Nikolai took cautiously. "Otabek Altin. It's nice to finally meet you Mr Plisetsky, I've heard so much about you from Yura."

"Have you now?" The older man replied gruffly.

Otabek glanced at Yuri and retrieved his hand. The younger Russian let out a sigh, this was going to be one hell of a week. In that awkward silence, Otabek dismissed himself, saying he would carry their stuff to each of their rooms.

Yuri's face returned to its natural scowl. "By the way, on Sunday night I'm going to Otabek's place for dinner."

Nikolai raised an eyebrow. "Dinner, at his house? Why is he staying here with us then?"

"No, I meant, his family house. Where his sister and mother live."

"Oh, I would quite like to meet them."

"I don't think-"

"I'm sure my mum would be glad to have another guest," Otabek added, causing the pair to turn around and question how long he'd even been standing there.

Yuri glared at Otabek. "Whatever," he grunted as he walked towards Otabek. As he brushed past he muttered in stilted German, "this is a terrible idea."

Nikolai stared impassively at Otabek for a few moments before shuffling off towards the kitchen. Otabek stood there, not quite sure what to do with himself.

"I don't think he likes me." He murmured to himself.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Back in Detroit...

 

Phichit watched Yuuri munch on his eggs rather distractedly, his eyes more concentrating on his phone. 

"Damn, Yuuri. Yuuri on top." Phichit crowed in his head.

Yuuri looked up momentarily. "Why are you staring at me? Is there something on my face?"

"W...what? No."

Yuuri rolled his eyes, bringing his attention back to his phone. Phichit continued his line of thought.

He stroked his chin, wait. If Yuuri was on top that meant... Phichit choked, a little bit of coffee coming out of his nose. Viktor must've been bottom. Viktor fucking Nikiforov. Phichit couldn't tell if his brain was overloading from the implication he'd so obviously missed or if it was because he was choking on his coffee.

Yuuri offered Phichit a few tissues, an exasperated smile on his face.

"Shut up," Phichit growled before falling into another coughing fit.

Viktor rushed out into the kitchen at that moment, hair a mess, tie slung over his shoulders and shirt unbuttoned.

"Is everything alright? Is someone dying? Oh my god, Phichit, what happened?" Viktor fired in quick succession, the worried creases in his brows quickly working themselves away.

Yuuri stared, a piece of egg falling out of his gaping mouth. He reached out to pat Phichit's shirt down with a tissue, but failed completely, instead, patted his best friend's face.

Phichit glanced between them."Yuuri, please pay attention," he grunted, punching Yuuri's shoulder.

"Ow. Sorry." Yuuri grumbled, turning away as a light blush dusted his cheeks.

"I'm uh, gonna go finish getting dressed," Viktor muttered, striding out of the kitchen.

Phichit cocked his head to a side. Something was very off. Viktor has seemed kind off since he'd seen Yuuri's tattoo, maybe he was just a little sad he hadn't gotten to see it himself.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Half an hour later, at the precinct

 

"Good morning, Yuuko." Viktor sang as he passed her desk.

She stood, a mixture of sounds that were probably meant to be words pouring out of her mouth. Yuuri gave Viktor a light push on the shoulder and chuckled. Viktor strode through the precinct, his head held high and a proud smile on his face. He waved awkwardly at familiar faces with his cuffed hands. He'd never surprised so many people at once before. Celestino was waiting outside his office.

"Viktor Nikiforov."

"Been a while, Captain." Viktor smiled, nodding his head at the captain.

Minami stood to the side, his mouth ajar. "Uh, he's not real, right?"

Leo shrugged, "I don't know, man. Do you see him, Guang-Hong?"

"Yeah, I do. Did we put something weird in the coffee?" Guang Hong muttered, stroking his chin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School is kicking back up again, but I shall try my absolute best to make sure chapters are not delayed. A note to those who may have been paying attention, I've shifted the chapter number from 25 to 30 because honestly I've planned things out and there's no way I'm going to finish in 25 chapters. Still, I remember the days when I thought this was going to be 15 chapters long! Well, please leave kudos, comments, bookmark or subscribe if you liked! See you next week.


	20. Dreamers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, without further ado, here's this week's chapter.

 Present time, Detroit

 

"Is no one going to ask me if I'm okay with this?" Yuuri whined, slumping down in his chair till he was about to fall off.

"Right, so that's settled. Yuuri and Phichit will be staying at the safe house with Viktor." Celestino muttered, shuffling a few papers on his desk.

"Guys-" Yuuri started.

"That works out great doesn't it? Yuuri and I need a safe place to stay so it works out just fine." Phichit chirped, smiling smugly at his best friend.

"For fuck's sake," Yuuri muttered under his breath.

"We'll get the tracking anklet on for Viktor," Minami added, gesturing to Viktor.

The Russian nodded, seeming fairly calm about the whole thing.

"Right, that's sorted. Viktor gets the old meeting room back. Everyone's dismissed." Celestino rubbed his hands together, a satisfied smile on his face.

 

The team shuffled out of the room, Minami's excited chattering creating the most noise. Yuuri tapped Phichit on the shoulder.

"What's up?" Phichit murmured, scrolling through something on his phone.

"Are you gonna tell the captain about DC?" Yuuri cringed visibly.

"DC?"

"Yeah, a...about me meeting Viktor, you know, sleeping with him?"

"Ohhh. Yeah, I already did."

"What?" Yuuri choked. "Oh my god, I'll never be able to face him again." Yuuri crumbled against the wall.

"Has it occurred to you that you just had a meeting with him."

Yuuri blinked.

"He didn't treat you any differently, told you it would be fine."

Yuuri pouted, "some warning would've been nice."

"Let's face it, if I warned you, you probably would've quit on the spot."

Yuuri rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna go deal with Viktor. I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, I'll be joining you in a minute." Phichit shuffled over to his desk to grab his laptop before heading to the meeting room. He knocked before entering, poking his head in to check he had the right room. Minami was crouched on the ground by Viktor's leg, fiddling with what Phichit assumed to be the ankle tracker he'd been talking about earlier.

"Hey. Where's Yuuri?" Phichit asked as he stepped into the room.

"Oh, he's busy. He was looking for you actually." Leo replied, leaning back in his chair.

"Ah. Guess I'd better go find him then."

"Phichit?" Viktor spoke for the first time in a while.

"Yeah?"

"Could I borrow your laptop for 5 minutes?"

"Why?"

"There's this video I really want to watch." Viktor made a fairly convincing puppy face.

"Ugh, sure, why not? Not much damage you could do in five minutes, right?" He put his laptop down in front of Viktor and dug his earphones out of his pocket, dropping them into Viktor's lap.

He tapped the password in and opened a fresh browser window for Viktor.

"Thank you so much," Viktor chirped.

"Five minutes, that's it. When I come back, I'm taking my laptop back."

Viktor nodded, watching as Phichit slipped back out of the room.

 

Phichit looked everywhere he could see from his vantage point and Yuuri was absolutely nowhere. Useful. It would take ages to find him. Yuuko caught his attention, perhaps she would know where Yuuri was hiding.

"Hey, Yuuko." Phichit grinned and leant on the wall of her cubicle.

"Hey, isn't it great to have Yuuri back? Though, double trouble, Viktor's back too."

"Yeah, on the note of Yuuri, have you see him around? Like, in the last few minutes. Apparently, he was looking for me."

"Uh, no sorry. Maybe ask Celestino?"

Phichit sighed,"thanks anyway."

He did end up going to Celestino and asking, which was as fruitless as wandering around the precinct searching. Wherever Yuuri had gone, he'd have to wait. Phichit headed back to the meeting room. No one had moved. Leo, tapping away at his phone, still sat opposite Viktor and Minami was still fiddling with that ankle tracker. Viktor pulled out his earphones and grinned, "thanks, Phichit." He slid the laptop back over to its owner.

"No problem."

"Oh my god. Done, finally." Minami groaned, standing up and stretching.

Viktor peered down curiously at his ankle, "it's pretty light."

"Yeah, good stuff."

Viktor nodded, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom."

Leo nodded and stood, opening the door for Viktor. "We'll be back." 

Minami stretched and followed the other two men. Phichit nodded, waiting for the door to close before he opened his laptop. There was no harm in checking, right? He reopened google chrome and went to the history tab. The last entry from just over 5 minutes ago was a google search.

"Plisetsky Russian nationals 2016 free skate. Okay." Phichit muttered to himself.

The next was a YouTube link to exactly that.

"Seems legit, but there's no harm in doing some extra checks."

Phichit tapped away at his keys, there were ways to retrieve browsing history that had been deleted. It was easy, as long as you knew what you were doing. Phichit's eyes narrowed as his search finished.

Sure enough, there were a few entries that had recently been deleted, did Viktor really think he was that stupid? He glanced over them. The first notable one was a Russian skating forum. Embarrassed fan boy or something more? Phichit clicked on the link. It was at the bottom of an old thread, just two very new messages at the bottom of a thread which was over a year old. He copy-pasted the Cyrillic into google translate.

Oddly, that didn't help. It was complete gibberish of random words slung together in sentences that didn't make sense at all. It must be a code because google translate wasn't that bad. What was even odder was the reply. About a minute after what Phichit assumed was Viktor's post. Just three words.

"The Black Crane." The words left an odd taste on Phichit's tongue.

He looked at the next entry in the history, a lump forming in his throat. It was a search of the police database.

"I'm gonna regret this, aren't I?" Phichit sighed, clicking on the link.

It was a police file for 'the Black Crane'. Phichit skimmed through quickly, the others would be back at any moment.

He muttered out loud as he read. "Young Japanese male involved in several gang encounters. A rough estimate of involvement in 47 deaths. Active in Italy (2015), Mexico (2015) and Japan (2015). Known for proficiency with blades and hand to hand combat. Assumed mercenary. No photographs."

Phichit squinted, whoever he was, the guy was a mystery. He scrolled further down the document. There was surprisingly little there. Phichit scrolled to the end, his eyes moving to the physical description.

"Crane and other design tattoo covering shoulders and upper back."

Phichit froze. No. It couldn't be. He scrolled back up quickly.

"Italy, Mexico, Japan. Italian, Spanish and.."

Phichit slammed his laptop shut as the door creaked open.

"Phichit?" Yuuri muttered, walking over to the table and putting a pile of papers, with a few coffee cups stacked on top, down.

"O...oh, h...hey Yuuri."

Yuuri grinned, "I got you your favourite from the cafe." He wrapped a napkin around the cup. "Careful, it's hot."

Phichit accepted the cup and immediately put it down. He was shaking, Yuuri would definitely notice.

"Too hot?"

"Yeah." Phichit stared at his friend.

It couldn't be. There was no way. It was some mad coincidence. If you're a mercenary working for gangs internationally then you'd know the languages right? Crane tattoos weren't that rare.

Yuuri sorted the papers into piles, glancing at his friend who was still staring at him.

"Do I have something on my face?"

"Yes." Phichit froze, what would he usually say? "Oh wait sorry, that's just your face."

Yuuri snickered, "why you gotta be so rude?"

Phichit laughed, grimacing. "I'll be back. I need to go to the bathroom."

He passed by Viktor, Minami and Leo who were on their way back, shooting them a polite smile. He needed to get Viktor alone for a little chat and only an intervention from the gods was going to stop him.

 

* * *

 

 Later that night

 

Phichit leaned against the bench top, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. Viktor chopped vegetables quietly, the rhythmic thud of the blade against the chopping board was the only sound in the otherwise quiet house. Seemed a little odd, a grown man using a child-safe knife.

"Viktor, we need to have a chat," Phichit grunted, feeling a little conscious about the way his voice seemed to fill the house. It was alright, Yuuri was in the shower, he shouldn't overhear anything, but that wouldn't last long.

"You've been waiting for Yuuri to disappear a little, huh?"

"Yeah, it's surprisingly difficult. You two are practically inseparable." Phichit sighed.

Viktor smiled, the edges of his lips turned down slightly.

"What did you want to talk about?" Viktor picked up the chopping board, shifting all the carrots into a waiting bowl. He grabbed the tomatoes and shifted them onto the board.

"I'm going to be frank with you. Who is the Black Crane?" Phichit stepped closer, a hand still pressed on the bench.

Viktor paused mid slice, glancing at Phichit before continuing.

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to."

"You've got some nerve there, using my laptop to search the police database."

"I didn't exactly do anything wrong."

"Heh, wait till I tell Celestino. He's gonna lock your ass-"

"You won't do that," Viktor muttered, putting the knife down.

"You're telling me what to do now?" Phichit hissed, his grip on the bench tightening.

"If you tell the captain he'll inevitably tell Yuuri."

"What does Yuuri have to do with this?"

Viktor's turned, narrowing his eyes at the Thai man.

"Neither of us are fools. You know the answer to your own question, you just want a confirmation."

Phichit gritted his teeth."Tell me what you know."

"You don't think you could ask Yuuri yourself?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

Phichit sighed, "he always avoided talking about it, I figure he wasn't allowed to say."

"And I am?"

"You're not exactly a cop, are you?"

Viktor shrugged, "what could I tell you that a police file couldn't?"

"There's nothing in that file and even if I looked I doubt I would find much."

Viktor smirked, "you're right about that. Even if you did find an original file it would be so covered in black you wouldn't be able to get anything out of it."

"So you do know a lot."

"I know enough."

Phichit glared pointedly at the man, his time would be up soon. He needed to stop Viktor from stalling.

"Tell me," Phichit hissed.

"I'll be honest with you. I won't tell you anything. Not because I don't want to, but because Yuuri doesn't want you to know."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You don't think Yuuri wouldn't have bent a few rules to tell you, his best friend?"

Phichit froze, he was right, Yuuri wasn't one to follow rules rigidly.

"There are things better left unsaid, Phichit."

"You're saying I should just go on like nothing has changed?"

"I'm saying you should trust that Yuuri has made the right judgement. If he wants to tell you, he will."

"I...He doesn't trust me?"

Viktor looked mortified,"no, no Phichit. God no. Please, don't think that. There are things I wouldn't even trust myself with. I'm sure Yuuri just needs time."

Phichit walked over to the table and slumped down into a chair. "You won't tell me anything?"

"I think I've said enough."

Phichit nodded, watching as Viktor turned back to dicing his tomatoes. Yuuri stumbled into the kitchen in a loose shirt and shorts, his hair still wet and messy.

"What's for dinner?" He asked, peering over Viktor's shoulder.

"It's a surprise. Have you dried your hair?"

"No."

"Go dry your hair." Viktor chided, "you'll catch a cold."

"Nah."

Viktor rolled his eyes,"don't come complaining to me when you get sick."

 

* * *

  

 March 2015, Tokyo

 

Yuuri padded across the room, knives dripping blood, held loosely in his hands. He stepped over a couple bodies as he made his way towards the coffee table. He wiped a blade against his pants, replacing the blade in its sheath on his hip. He sat down on the couch, shoving aside a limp corpse till he had enough room for himself.

A man lay face down on the coffee table, his blood pooling out over the table. Yuuri dug a pack of cigarettes and lighter from his pocket and pried the man's glass from his stiff fingers. He pressed the glass to his lips, taking a small sip before sitting back down. He looked up at the ceiling, scanning for anything reminiscent of a fire alarm, his eyes skimming over a few splatters of blood on the ceiling.

He lit the cigarette, placing it between his lips with shaky fingers. He let out the first puff with a faltering sigh. Yuuri glanced out the window, squinting to see through a patch of drying blood. The tall buildings shone brightly in the night, the rain doing nothing to dim the neon lights of the city sky line.

He flinched as a man nearby shifted, letting out a grunt. Yuuri pulled his gun out of its holster, the silencer making it slightly bulkier than usual. He sauntered over to the man, whiskey still in one hand, humming quietly to himself as he went. He paused in front of the guy, kicking him till he flipped over, where Yuuri could see his face. His crisp white shirt was died with blood, he was going to bleed out either way.

"Akuma," the man hissed, "you were too good to be true."

Yuuri watched silently, his lips curled into a scornful smile. He lifted the gun pressing the end of the barrel to the man's forehead. 

"I'll see you in hell, brother," Yuuri muttered, pulling the trigger in quick succession. Three was the magic number.

He wandered back over to the couch, weaving between the corpses that littered the apartment. Yuuri plopped down, taking another drag from his cigarette before his phone vibrating in his pocket brought him back from amongst the dead.

"Hai?"

"Katayama?"

"It's fine, there's no one else here. Just call me by my name."

"We're still on a mission, Yuuri."

"Whatever, this is about as off-the-books as things can get."

"Where are you?"

"Where do you think?" Yuuri grumbled, scratching the back of his head.

The woman on the other end of the line sighed. "You need to clean up. Gas it."

Yuuri froze. "Excuse me?"

"Burn everything."

Yuuri swallowed. Burn it? "This doesn't sound like a good idea-"

"Katsuki. Orders. Do it."

"What about the other people in the building?"

"We'll set off the fire alarm as soon as you light the fire. We've isolated the sprinkler system so it won't turn on on that floor. There will be no casualties."

"O...okay."

"Get to it. Call me when you're ready. You've got 5 minutes."

Yuuri shoved his phone back into his pocket and leaned forward, pressing his face into his hands, he let out a muffled scream. A few minutes later he perked his head up to the sound of the door unlocking. Shit. He reached for his gun and a knife, diving forward to use the couch for cover. His heart hammered in his chest, the shadow became larger, the footsteps padding closer.

"Yuuri?"

Yuuri let out the breath he'd been holding and stood slowly from his hiding spot. "You scared the fuck out of me, Whitman." Yuuri took a few steps towards the other man, pausing when the other man's face contorted into an expression of shock, then horror.

"Yuuri, you're a mess." He muttered, stepping forward and cupping his hands on either side of Yuuri's face, his thumbs brushing over Yuuri's bloodied cheeks.

"Thanks," Yuuri murmured, leaning forwards to press his lips against the taller brunette's.

"Stop it. We're working," Whitman sighed, holding Yuuri away by the shoulders with a blush.

"This is work," Yuuri smirked. "Anyhoo, why are you here?"

"I figured you'd need some help."

"Help?" Yuuri looked around the unlit apartment. "I think I've got this."

"Yuuri, you're supposed to clean up." Whitman shook his head.

"Oh. I uh."

"It's fine. Get out of here, I've got this." He gestured to two petrol cans behind him. "I know how much you hate fire."

"Oh, uh, thanks. I'll catch you later then?"

Whitman nodded, watching as Yuuri strode to the front door, opening it confidently.

"Yuuri."

"Yeah?"

"You don't plan on walking out like that, do you?"

Yuuri looked down at himself. His shirt was soaked in blood, his hair and face probably in a similar state.

"Right." He plucked a large raincoat off the rack by the door, pulling it on over his slim shoulders and flipping the hood up over his head.

"Good. Call them when you get down to the lobby."

Yuuri paused in the doorway, "you'll be alright getting down?"

"Yeah, yeah. Go on. I'll see you later."

Yuuri nodded and walked off, letting the door slam shut behind him. He strode to the lift, humming as he waited for the lift, while he rode the lift down and as he stepped out into the lobby. In the reflection of the shiny walls of the lift he rubbed at some of the blood on his face absently. He lifted his phone to his ear.

"Call the rain." He muttered.

For a moment he paused, looking upwards as the sprinklers came to life, raining down onto his face washing away a little bit of the blood. 

He watched passively as the security guard jumped out of his seat, obviously alarmed that there was a fire present. The guard dashed to a phone on the wall, screaming Japanese into the receiver as Yuuri padded outside into the refreshing night air. He unlocked his phone and went to the notes application.

"I need some onions, some tomatoes and probably some carrots. Should I make my own sauce or just use that pre-made stuff?" He muttered as he walked around the corner and into the darkness of the night.

 

* * *

 

Present time, St. Petersburg

 

Chris slammed the phone back down into its receiver letting out a frustrated sigh. He leaned back in his leather chair and took a sip from his glass of whiskey, groaning as the phone started ringing once again.

"Hallo?"

"It's Lambiel."

"Ah, Stephane. Finally, someone that isn't bad news."

"Having a bad day?"

"Have you been reading the news?" Chris sighed, glancing around his desk for the paper.

"Ah, the Plisetsky boy?"

"Yeah."

"He's trouble, Chris. I don't know why you bother."

"It's complicated, Stephane."

"It always is, isn't it?"

"Yes, anyway, what did you need me for?"

"I need your signature on a few documents. I've already emailed them over, but I'll probably need them in a few days so take your time."

"Sure. Just saying, you're the best Vice President I could ever ask for. I'll get that done as soon as I can."

"Right, I'll leave you to it."

"Yes, goodnight."

"Have a good evening."

Chris put the receiver down again. Gently he lifted the silver chain around his neck off, fingers running along the metal links until he grasped the key at the end. He turned to a side, unlocking the drawer in his desk.

He removed the only object in the draw, a black picture frame laying face down. Yuri and Otabek stood in the centre of the picture, both boys done up neatly in their new school uniforms. Yuri was scowling and tugging at his collar and tie as if they were killing him already.

If his memory was anything to go by, Yuri had just turned 8 and Otabek was 10. A similarly young Mila stood behind Yuri, on her tiptoes with her arms thrown over Yuri's shoulders, trying desperately to stop him from undoing his tie before they could take a picture. Georgi stood behind Otabek, a gentle smile on his face and a hand ruffling Otabek's hair. Otabek, of course, was stone faced unlike everyone else in the photo. Viktor stood beside Yuri, a proud grin on his face. Chris himself was standing beside Otabek, looking as if he was about to cry from the hilarity. He smiled fondly at the picture, glancing his own tired expression in the reflection of the frame's glass cover.

"I'll always have your back, buddy," Chris whispered.

 

* * *

 

 Mid 2008, Geneva, Switzerland

 

Chris munched absently on a carrot stick, his pen scratching across the maths-covered page. 

"Christophe?" His father called, voice muffled by the door.

"Uh, yeah?" He called back.

"Come downstairs, I want to talk to you."

Chris raised an eyebrow, dropping his pen down on the page. That was odd. He got up out of his chair and grabbed a jacket off the back of his bedroom door before heading to the living room where he saw his father last. The only light was that of the fireplace, filling the room with a soft orange glow.

"Father?"

Chris' father looked up,"come here, sit."

He obeyed, sitting opposite his father on the red suede couch.

"How's school?"

Chris shrugged, "the usual."

His father slouched a little, bringing his cigar to his lips.

"Are you doing okay, Chris?"

Chris nodded, "is something wrong?"

The man smiled painfully, "is there something wrong with wanting to sit down with my son?"

Chris wanted to say yes because they hadn't sat down and talked like this in years. Chris cringed as his phone started vibrating in his pocket.

"I should take this," Chris muttered, holding the phone up to ear, it was an unknown number.

"Who's this?"

"Chris, thank god!" Viktor's familiar voice huffed.

Chris blinked, Viktor had a number that he usually used to text Chris. "What's up?"

"You need to listen to me very carefully." Viktor puffed, sounding as if he was running somewhere

"Okay."

"Your dad double-crossed Yakov. He's not going to let this go."

Chris' eyes widened, meeting his father's. His father grimaced as if he could read his son's mind.

"Listen please, listen, Chris. Whatever you do, don't get between Yakov's men and your father. Just, sit tight. I've given them the orders not to lay a finger on you. Everything is going to be all right. Chris? Are you listening?"

"Yes, I'll...call you back, Viktor," Chris muttered, putting the phone down on the table slowly.

His father's eyes widened at the mention of Viktor's name.

"Chris?!" Viktor shrieked, his voice echoing throughout the room even though he wasn't on speaker.

Chris punched the end call button, his fingers trembling.

"Dad-"

"What flowers are we going to buy for your mother's grave this year?"

"Dad please-"

"Gardenias? She liked those. How about Roses, those were always a safe choice."

"Dad what-"

Chris barely flinched as the windows shattered, black figures swinging in on ropes. The sound of yelling filled the room, a guy grabbing Chris by a handful of his hair, dragging him to his knees beside his father who had been pulled down to the floor.

"What the fuck are you doing? Don't touch the kid." One man hissed, slapping Chris' captor over the head.

The guy shrugged and tossed Chris aside. The young man held his hands over his mouth, meeting his father's eyes.

One man pressed the barrel of his gun to his head.

"Chris, I love y-" 

The bang echoed against the walls of the room. The men left as quickly as they had come. One paused before leaving, shoving a piece of paper into Chris' hands. He sat there, unmoving until a maid opened the door, her wails piercing the peaceful silence. He unfolded the piece of paper. It was a one-way flight to St. Petersburg.

 

* * *

 

Stephane jogged after Chris, grabbing his shoulder. "Chris? Where are you going?!"

"To see the man who saved my life." Chris smiled sadly.

"What about the company?"

"I'm only what, 17? I won't own the company legally for at least another year. It's all yours. Do as you please." Chris brushed the older man's hand off.

"Chris, please."

"I'll see you later." Chris dragged his light carry-on to the gate, not once turning to look back.

 

Six hours later, Chris strode through the halls of Pulkovo International airport, every step taking him closer to a pair of familiar figures on the other side of the arrival lounge. The moment he was close enough he buried his face in Viktor's shoulder, his façade shattering as tears began pouring down his face and jarring sobs tore from his chest.

Viktor wrapped the fragile young man in his arms. 

"Shh, everything is gonna be okay," he murmured.

Yuri watched on worriedly, his fingers fisted in the hem of Chris' shirt.

 

We all have dreams, no matter how stupid they may be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was a ride! Please leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed! Don't forget to subscribe or bookmark. See you next week!


	21. The Metaphorical Gun to My Long Scattered Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, as you may have figured out, I still haven't figured out the how to name chapters. So please, bear with me.

 

 

 

2017, present time, Sunday evening in St. Petersburg

 

Yuri tapped his fingers against his lap and glanced over at Otabek beside him. Since the three of them were all going they figured it would be better just to use a car. Nikolai hadn't even let Otabek drive, despite him having a license.

"This is a terrible idea." Yuri chanted in his head.

Otabek seemed to notice, turning and mouthing, "is everything okay?"

Yuri snarled and waved him off aggressively as if to bat away his concerns.

"Where should I park?" Nikolai muttered, looking at the pair in his rear view mirror.

"Just in the drive way is fine."

Nikolai nodded and pulled into the driveway. Yuri could barely wait for the car to come to a full stop before he jumped out of the car. He stalked up the brick path to the front door of the Altin family home. A fairly large red-brick house, quietly endearing, making a statement without saying too much. A lot like Otabek. The Altin's had a language of their own, that of actions and few words.

Yuri was barely up the steps to their veranda when the front door was thrown open and Yuri nearly thrown to the ground in a flurry of darkish brown hair.

"Yuri!"

"Deana," Yuri grunted in reply, a small smile forming on his lips.

"Beka!" The girl shrieked even louder, releasing Yuri from her clutches.

She jumped into her brother's open arms, squealing as he swung her around.

"Hi, Dee." Otabek murmured as he put her down.

"Look at you! You're shrinking and Yuri is getting taller every time we see him." She threw a smirk at Yuri.

Otabek coughed, placing a hand on his sister's shoulder. "Deana, this is Mr Plisetsky."

"Oh my gosh! I've heard so much about you. I'm Deana. Please, call me Dee. Nice to meet you." She stuck a hand to Nikolai, grinning.

The older man took her hand hesitantly. The girl was very lively.

"Dee is Otabek's younger sister. She's thirteen this year." Yuri added, tugging on Otabek's arm.

"Man, it's so nice to finally meet the in law-"

Yuri clapped a hand over her mouth,"well, Dee, it has been ages since I've seen the house. I heard you made some renovations to your room, why don't you show me," he forced out, dragging the girl into the house.

Nikolai raised an eyebrow at Otabek, who simply shrugged in reply.

"She gets excited when Yuri comes around."

"I can see that..."

Moments later Deana reappeared, seeming to have materialised out of thin air.

"Beka, come play the guitar while I braid Yuri's hair,"

"If you'll excuse me," Otabek muttered to Nikolai before being dragged off into the house. 

Nikolai walked into the house, every step taken in apprehension.

"Mr Plisetsky?" A voice called, presumably from the kitchen.

Nikolai followed the voice there, identifying its owner as Otabek's mother.

"I'm sorry. My hands are a little full. Deana didn't even walk you in. Deana! Is this how you treat our guests?"

"Mum!" Dee whined from an adjacent room," Yuri distracted me!"

 

 

"You're blaming me?!" Yuri growled.

"I'm sorry, Dee is a little..."

"Lively." Nikolai finished, a small smile on his face, "she reminds me of Yuri when he was younger."

He glanced into the connecting living room where the three youngsters were sitting on the ground. 

"Well, I'm Katya, it's nice to finally meet you. Yuri talks about you a lot."

"Please, call me Nikolai."

 

Otabek strummed his guitar quietly while Deana sat behind Yuri, her fingers deftly moving through Yuri's blonde locks. 

"Deana you're so slow."

"I need practice is why."

"Are you doing a fishtail?"

"No? I don't know how to." Dee whined.

Otabek stopped playing and sighed,"here, Yuri, take the guitar. Dee, watch carefully."

Otabek moved behind Yuri and brush his fingers through the strands, freeing the hair from the half-done braid. Yuri rolled his eyes and adjusted the guitar in his lap, tapping a string experimentally. He strummed a few strings, a mischievous grin crossing his face as he sucked in a deep breath.

"I'm Otabek Altin and I'm an asshole~ who thinks everyone can play all instruments coz apparently I'm a musical genius and I can~"

Otabek promptly removed the guitar from Yuri's fingers,"language, Yura."

Yuri scoffed,"Dee isn't five years old anymore. She's in high school, she's heard worse!"

Otabek fixed Yuri with a glare, "my house, my rules."

Yuri turned to face Dee. "Princess," he spat.

"Brat," she shot back.

"Spoilt."

"Possessive,"

Yuri snorted, "who, me?" He leaned back against Otabek, driving an arm between him and his sister.

"You can share."

"You can't share a person."

"Fight me." Dee hissed.

Otabek groaned.

"No fighting in the house!" Katya roared, banging her spatula against the bench top.

Nikolai watched the scene with mild amusement. He never saw Yuri with other children, in fact, the boy seemed to speak mostly of the mysterious Otabek from Kazakhstan. He surely had other friends, somewhere. Hard to say if Otabek was really a friend.

"I can see the question in your eyes." Katya murmured, a kind smile on her lips.

"Sorry?"

"It's the same one I had when I first arrived here in Russia. If my word is any consolation, it has nothing to do with the money. Otabek doesn't need it."

Nikolai's mouth formed a small 'o'.

"That boy used his own brain and hands to get himself a scholarship at the university."

"He's studying at university?"

"Yes, Saint Petersburg State. A double degree in English and teaching. He said he wants to become a music teacher as well as English."

"Those are admirable aspirations." Nikolai watched the bickering trio curiously.

"And yes, I know my son is Yuri's bodyguard, but Yuri means the world to him. He'd stand by him, bodyguard or not. I think Viktor just pays him out of courtesy."

Nikolai nodded.

"He was nervous to meet you, you know."

"Really? I hadn't noticed a thing."

"He was meeting Yura's precious dedushka, of course, he was nervous."

Nikolai chuckled. "He doesn't show emotions easily, does he?"

Katya smiled, albeit a little painfully. "It's not his fault and he's better now than he used to be. I'm glad he has Yuri to understand him. I always worried about him, but I'm thankful Yura helped set him on the right path."

Nikolai nodded, so there was more to Otabek Altin than meets the eye.

 

Eventually dinner was ready and the two boisterous children were dragged over to the table by Otabek. He seated them opposite and hoped that that would stop them from fighting, at least over the table. Otabek sat at the end of the table where both of them could reach him to prevent any possessive spats, Nikolai sat beside Yuri and their host, Katya sat at the head of the table. 

"All right, everyone dig in." She crowed, gesturing over the feast laid before them.

It looked like it was enough for a dozen people, not five, but screw it, Yuri was a hungry, growing teenager.

 

Later that night...

 

Otabek tapped the black and white keys quietly, choosing a quiet melody to calm the teen who was snoring on his shoulder. Yuri tightened his grip around Otabek's neck, mumbling lowly in his sleep.

"Someone's tired," Deana murmured, smiling at the pair.

Otabek replied with a non-committal grunt, the last few notes of the song fading away.

"We should be going." Nikolai yawned, getting off the couch and shaking Yuri gently.

"Fuck off," Yuri grunted, tightening his grip on the Kazakh boy even further.

Otabek didn't seem so bothered by the Russian's strangle hold on him, instead he turned to his side, scooping Yuri up in his arms.

"Could someone get the door for me?" Otabek asked, shaking his head as he got a face full of blonde hair.

"Family gatherings always end like this, don't they?" Deana giggled, getting up and ambling over to the door, holding it open for Otabek to carry Yuri out.

"Yura used to be so much easier to carry, wasn't he?" Dee teased.

"Not really."

"Oh, please. You're struggling, one day he's going to be carrying you." Dee grinned mischievously.

Nikolai raised an eyebrow at Dee. Katya gave her daughter a playful slap on the shoulder.

"We'll be seeing you around then, Beka, darling?"

Otabek nodded, turning to walk towards the car. "See you."

"Thank you for having me over." Nikolai nodded before turning to join Otabek.

 

* * *

  

 

 

Back in Detroit...

 

Viktor sighed, switching the TV off. Anything they'd be kind of interested in had already run and it was getting late. Phichit had gone off on a date, leaving the two of them alone. It was Yuuri's idea to watch last years Skate America, funnily enough though, Yuuri was the one who was bundled up snoring away on the couch opposite.

"Yuuri, wake up, you can't sleep here. You'll screw your shoulder up." Viktor shook his shoulder gently.

Yuuri groaned, twisting away.

"Yuuri," Viktor chided,"don't make me carry you to your room."

Yuuri flipped over, whining and opening his arms.

"You want me to?"

Yuuri whined louder, flapping his arms around.

Viktor reached out and pressed a hand against Yuuri's forehead. "Jesus fuck, you're hot." Viktor flushed,"I mean, you're feverish."

"Thanks, Vicchan." Yuuri mumbled, grinning drunkly.

"You're sick." Viktor wasn't sure what Vicchan (Viking? Vichen?) was meant to be.

"Mmmhmm."

Viktor let out a sigh, tucking an arm under Yuuri's legs and another under his arms. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

Yuuri locked his arms around Viktor's neck, barely agreeing to let go as Viktor put him down in Viktor's own bed.

"Vicccchaaaan! My phone, please."

Viktor sighed, looking around he spotted Yuuri's phone on the ground just off the bed.

"Here," he muttered, handing Yuuri his phone. "I'll get you a glass of water."

 

Viktor shuffled off to the kitchen, filling a glass of water. He didn't notice he'd overfilled the glass till the cold water was slipping around his fingers. He wiped the glass of hurriedly and headed back to his bedroom. The first thing he noticed was Yuuri's phone on the ground, face up, a bright beacon in the darkness of the room.

"Yuuri?" Viktor asked, worriedly, crossing the room with long strides and placing the glass down on the bedside table.

Yuuri was peacefully snoring away, his upper body hanging precariously off the bed. Viktor shoved as much of Yuuri as he could back onto the bed and reached down to grab his phone. That was odd, he seemed to have been in the middle of a call.

"Hello?" Viktor asked, it seemed to be silent on the other end of the line.

"Yuuri? Who's this?"

Viktor glanced at the ID, who was 'Minako Sensei'? A relative of Yuuri's, presumably.

"Uh, I'm Yuuri's housemate."

"You're not Phichit."

Viktor swallowed, someone was sharp. "Uh, yeah. I'm not Phichit."

"What happened to Yuuri, he just dropped off all of a sudden."

"He fell asleep, I think."

"You think? Just wait, I'm coming over right now, I'll bring all of Yuuri's favourite foods to eat when he's sick and the medicine that works best for him-"

"I really don't think that's necess-"

"I'll see you in 5 minutes."

"Wait-" Viktor was interrupted by a dial tone.

Viktor leaned against the wall, sliding down till he was sitting fully. He let the phone fall into his lap, bringing his hands up to cover his face, he muffled a scream.

"Fucking hell." Viktor groaned, standing and tossing his phone onto the bedside table he stalked to the front of the house.

He threw open the front door, eyes immediately moving to the house just across the court, where the cops actually were. He waved Yuuri's phone around in front of him, pointing at it. They seemed to get the message, because moments later the phone was ringing.

"It's Smith, stop waving Yuuri's phone around and shut the door. What's happening?"

"Yuuri got sick and was so delirious he called someone and told her our address and now she's coming here because she's worried about him and she knows Phichit and I don't know what to do and Yuuri is already sleeping like a log." Viktor ranted as he shut the door, leaning back against it and sliding to the ground.

"Well, shit."

"Yeah, and we can't exactly say, sorry this is a safe-house you can't be here."

"Well, we could..." Smith pondered.

"Let's face it, that probably wouldn't end well."

Smith replied with a non committal grunt.

"So, what do I do?"

"You're Yuuri's housemate, act like it."

"Huh?"

"Just let her look after Yuuri, she won't stay there forever."

"You're joking right? You want me to stay here... with her?"

"Do we really have a choice?"

Viktor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I guess not."

"Get the house ready for guests."

Viktor laughed,"that just sounds ridiculous, what do you mean? Fluff up the cushions? Straight the bed sheets?"

"If there's any case files lying around the place, make them disappear."

"Right."

"Anything else you need to know?"

"What if she knows who I am?"

Smith paused,"she won't."

"You don't sound so sure."

"I highly doubt Yuuri has shared pictures of you with her. Even if he has, just roll with it."

"Okay. Thanks."

"You've got this. We've got connection to the mike in Yuuri's phone so we'll be able to hear if something goes wrong."

"That's reassuring, how long has it even been there?"

"Only since you came back. You should go clean up, knowing Yuuri's he's left all sorts of files out."

"Yeah, cool, see you later. Hopefully."

Viktor walked back to his bedroom, prying open the door to check Yuuri was still asleep. He was snoring, slightly louder than usual, but he was fast asleep. Viktor put Yuuri's phone down on the bedside table, his eyes lingering on Yuuri's sleeping face.

 

Viktor hadn't really ever noticed, but Yuuri wasn't one for neatness. He had files scattered across the floor in one corner of the kitchen reserved specifically for him. Luckily for Viktor, there didn't seem to be files anywhere else. Yuuri wasn't exactly supposed to be working at home, but since moving in with Viktor it made it possible for him to be working all the time.

It was more or less up to Viktor to tell him when to stop. Which, more often than not was "Yuuri no work at the dinner table and no work after dinner." Which was why Yuuri would ignore dinner for an extra hour or two instead, to Viktor and Phichit's chagrin. Viktor nearly jumped out his skin when the doorbell rang, accompanied by hurried knocking on the door. He jogged over, undoing a few of the locks. Here goes nothing. He paused, looking down. He was wearing shorts, that's okay, right? They were his plainest black pair, but that was okay...

"Oh, shit." Viktor hissed, his eyes glued to the bulky, black tracker attached to his leg. 

That wasn't a dead give away at all. Not. At. All.

"Just a second!" Viktor called, stepping away from the door.

How was he supposed to cover this up? His eyes searched across the ground freezing at a particular item. It couldn't get worse. A pair of motley, brown ugg boots sitting beside the rest of their shoes. Who in gods name brought that into this household without Viktor knowing?!

"Fashion gods please, forgive me." Viktor muttered, bending over and tugging the offending boots on.

It was a big of a snug fit, might even be cutting off a little circulation, but it would have to do. Viktor opened the door with a smile, the smile he put on whenever he had to deal with new people. It was the kind of smile he held while people stared, eyes first, then to his silver hair and finally settling on his entire face. He watched as Minako stepped through these phases within a few seconds, her mouth popping open into a small 'o'.

"Hi, sorry for the wait. I'm Viktor Niki-" he coughed, "Nicholson." He offered the  woman a handshake.

"Nice to meet you," Minako muttered, accepting his handshake.

 

The two promptly entered the house, Minako immediately asking to see Yuuri. Of course, that's why she was here. Viktor watched her work from a distance. She was tall and willowy, probably a dancer from the way she moved, her brown locks, which reached just beyond her shoulders, flowed with every movement. It was hard to say exactly how old she was with such a lively smile.

Yuuri seemed fond of her, smiling when he saw her, even after she had woke him from his slumber. Yuuri would normally murder you for waking him up.

Eventually she had Yuuri take his pills and a wet cloth on his head to get his temperature down. She gestured for Viktor to follow her out to the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

"I'll show you a few things and then I'll be going. I still have to go back to work."

Viktor nodded,"is the kitchen all right?"

"Yes," she gestured for him to show the way.

In the kitchen she placed the tote bag she'd bought with her on the table, rifling through it for a few seconds.

She smiled meekly,"could I use your bathroom?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll show you." Viktor got up and padded over to the corridor, gesturing down vaguely. "Door on the left."

Viktor nearly had a heart attack when she reached for the door to Yuuri and Phichit's room, which thankfully is always locked because there's guns and probably more stuff in there that Yuuri would never want his aunt to see.

"Oh no, no. Not that one, that's a store room. One more down." Viktor laughed, as nervously as he could allow himself to be without looking suspicious.

Minako shot him a smile as she stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind herself quietly. Viktor sighed and walked back to the kitchen. He put the kettle on and waited quietly, staring out the window into the darkness of the night. The moment the kettle whistled in the slightest, Viktor pulled it off the stove and made himself some tea.

"Viktor?" Viktor flinched.

"Y...yes?" Viktor sipped in faked calmness.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you and Yuuri dating?"

Viktor would've spat his tea across the room, if it weren't for Minako standing in front of him. Instead he choked and spluttered. "N...no we're just housemates."

She chuckled, "you don't have to lie to me. Let's get one thing straight, I know that Yuuri is about as straight as the Leaning Tower of Pisa."

Viktor smiled, a kind of I'm choking, but you're funny smile.

"And there's only one bed in this house, that happens to be a king sized one."

No, there really was no reason for Viktor to occupy the whole bed himself, but it wasn't like he could go unlock Yuuri's room now and show her.

Viktor grasped his cup tighter. "Your point?"

"Yuuri isn't exactly normal, per se, he's been through a lot. It's nice to see he stopped obsessing with work for long enough to settle down with someone."

Viktor chuckled,"trust me, he still works very hard. It's one of the many things I admire about him."

Minako smiled sadly, "I need to make sure you know that Yuuri won't always be rainbows and sunshine. He has his bad days and they're worse than what anyone else would usually call a bad day."

Viktor nodded,"it's okay. I know."

"You must really like him, if you're willing to stay."

"I wouldn't have him any other way."

"Then there's a few things I think you should know, since Yuuri might not tell you until it's too late."

Viktor nodded.

"I'm not his aunt by blood. I was his legal guardian and a friend of his mother. Yuuri lost his entire family to a fire when he was barely 16 and he has no living relatives." 

"Oh."

"He struggled for a while with people. Like he was afraid to get close, lest he lose them all over again, but I was worried that he was passing up so many opportunities. He went through so much he just threw himself head first into being a police officer."

"Are you trying to warn me?"

Minako shrugged,"I want him to be happy, but you shouldn't be surprised if he cuts ties and leaves without warning. He doesn't mean it."

Viktor nodded, "he doesn't talk about the past much."

"He prefers to pretend it never happened. You know it took a month for him to be okay with a flame on the stove. He's just so fragile, I don't want him to get hurt."

Viktor blinked, Yuuri was the one who did most of the cooking these days.

"I doubt I need to say this, but if you hurt him I will find you and I will cut your balls off."

Viktor swallowed. "Noted."

Minako slapped her hand on the table. "Especially this Nikiforov bastard. Yuuri's been on his case for ages, finally caught the guy."

Viktor nodded. He wondered if she knew who was he was, whether she'd grab the chef's knife and kill him right here and now. She reached into her tote back and pulled a few items out and put them on the table.

"This is instant Miso. It's Yuuri's favourite brand, just follow the instructions on the box and you'll get Miso."

"M...Miso?"

Minako smiled,"yeah, it's soup. You've never heard of it?"

"No, Yuuri only talks about Katsudon." Viktor shrugged.

"Speak of the devil. I bought some katsudon too." Minako grinned, lifting a foil wrapped plate out of her bag.

Viktor grinned,"I tried cooking some for Yuuri, but I'm sure he was being polite when he said it was alright."

"You tried cooking Yuuri food?" Minako scoffed.

"Yeah? Is there an issue with that?"

"It's just surprising because that boy is ridiculously picky. Like he would rather cook all of his food for himself and everyone rather than have to deal with anyone else's cooking."

"Huh, he didn't seem to mind. He did complain about Phichit's cooking though." Viktor shrugged.

"Well, lucky you, you must be a great chef."

Viktor snorted,"I'll have you know I'm a terrible cook."

Minako paused, smiling fondly at Viktor. "Well, you seem like a good guy."

Viktor cringed internally, if only she knew.

"Well, I should be going. Don't forget to change Yuuri's cloth every now and then." Minako murmured, getting her stuff together and heading out of the kitchen.

Viktor unlocked the array of locks on the door muttering, "past owners were paranoid," as an excuse.

Minako paused outside, turning to face Viktor. "The boy is insufferable, you have no idea what you've signed up for, do you?" She laughed teasingly.

"I'm beginning to think you really just want to scare me away." Viktor grinned and rolled his eyes.

"Perhaps. Good luck though." Minako smiled and stepped off into the darkness of the night.

Viktor watched her step into her car and drive off, his eyes drifting over to where he knew his other police companions would be watching. He shut the door, put all the god-damn locks back in place and padded back to his bedroom. He pressed a hand to Yuuri's forehead, noting the cloth was already getting too warm.

He sighed, walking to the bathroom to quickly rinse the cloth out, bringing it back to its freezing temperature. He hoped Yuuri wouldn't mind. He placed the cloth gently against the younger man's head, his fingers lingering against Yuuri's black locks. Yuuri's hand jerked, his fingers coming to a rest around Viktor's wrist. Yuuri shifted and scowled.

"D...don't leave me," Yuuri mumbled.

Viktor tried tugging his hand away gently, to no avail. "Oh, Yuuri. You are insufferable."

Yuuri tugged Viktor's hand down until it was tucked firmly amongst his bundle of blankets against his chest. Viktor sighed and let his hand be held hostage, the man himself sliding down till he was comfortably leaning against the bed. No, he wasn't cold or particularly annoyed.

He was just very uncomfortable with how his heart felt as if it was going to explode out of his chest. Viktor was sure, if someone asked him now what he was afraid of, he would have to say that these feelings he had no name for were far more terrifying than any mobster or wrong end of the barrel he's ever faced.

"I don't want to go, Yuuri."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Viktor T - T


	22. Hot Choc and Chill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hihihihi! Sorry if i don't reply to your comments! I promise I'll catch up real soon, I've been super busy!

Detroit, Later that week

 

It was a little odd to have Yuuri around all the time. Sure, Viktor had been getting used to seeing him all day before he left, but this was different. The three of them were living together. Yuuri, as it turns out, is a night owl to Phichit's dismay. He loved staying up late, binging TV to Viktor's delight. The first night after everyone had gone to bed, Viktor found him watching, or rather, rewatching the last Grand Prix at nearly 1 in the morning.

Yuuri seemed more than happy for Viktor to join him, not prying into why he wasn't sleeping. The two shared their popcorn companionably. This tradition seemed like it would never end. Tonight was different though, Yuuri had actually gone to bed. Viktor sat up in bed, he had been looking forward to spending some time with Yuuri. Sure, they had all day at the precinct, but he was different when they were alone together.

 

Tonight, Viktor sat up, curled against his headboard, alone and a little cold. A gentle knock on the door sent Viktor sprawling onto the floor, well, mostly onto the floor. His legs had gotten tangled up in the sheet, leaving him kind of dangling off the edge of the bed with his head on the floor.

"Come in," he groaned.

Yuuri poked his head in, "sorry, were you asleep?"

"Nah," Viktor replied as coolly as the situation would allow as he tried to untangle his legs.

"What...are you doing?" Yuuri laughed, the high peals of his giggles going straight to Viktor's heart.

"Uh...stretches?"

He didn't need to worry about Yuuri seeing him blush because whatever celestial beings were watching over him at that moment made the sheets unravel, sending the Russian tumbling to the ground.

Yuuri let out a squeak, covering his mouth as he dropped to his knees beside Viktor. "Are you hurt?"

"Yeah, just my ego is a little bruised," Viktor sighed, earning more laughter from Yuuri. That sweet, precious sound.

Yuuri laughed his heart out till the tears stopped coming, immediately sobering up. Viktor was still propped up against his bed, watching Yuuri quietly. Really, his pain wasn't that funny, was it?

"Is everything okay, Yuuri?" Viktor asked, tilting his head to a side, he hadn't expected Yuuri to seek him out.

Yuuri tucked his knees against his chest, leaning his chin on his knees.

"I don't know. Why aren't you asleep?"

Viktor shrugged,"guess I got used to staying up late."

"I...get nervous before raids. I don't want Phichit to know, so I try extra hard not to wake him up."

"Oh, is that why we're hiding in my room?"

Yuuri nodded quickly.

"You're nervous about the raid?"

Yuuri nodded. "Not exactly... I know everything is gonna be okay. I just...can't get myself to calm down."

Viktor nodded, "do you wanna talk about it?"

Yuuri shrugged,"what do you want from the coffee shop tomorrow?"

Viktor raised an eyebrow, "coffee. The usual."

"You always get coffee though."

"Because I like it." Viktor rolled his eyes.

"You should try other things, you know? You might find something else you like"

"Nah. I think I've already found what I wanted all along." Viktor didn't even realise how long he must've been staring at Yuuri until the man shifted under his gaze, moving to look out the window.

Both men remained silent for a while.

"Yuuri, do you want a hot chocolate?"

"Huh?"

"Hot chocolate."

"Sure, but where are we gonna get it? What cafe is open at this hour?"

"No, we have chocolate and stuff in our kitchen."

"I had no idea."

"You want some or not? It might help you sleep."

"Sure," Yuuri shrugged.

 

Yuuri followed Viktor into the darkened kitchen, the benches barely lit by the slither of moonlight filtering through the blinds.

"I thought you hated hot choc, how do you know how to make it?"

Viktor shrugged,"I always made it for someone else." He finished his preparation in silence, taking a little sip to make sure the temperature was just right. "Here." He passed the cup to Yuuri.

Yuuri sucked in a long breath, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Good?"

"Smells amazing," Yuuri mumbled in reply, taking his first sip.

"Good."

"For someone who claims to hate hot chocolate, you make it well."

 

* * *

  

The next Day...

 

"Viktor, stop it," Yuuri whined, batting the man's fingers away.

Viktor continued to fiddle with a strap on  Yuuri's helmet. "Just a second." He mumbled, brow creased with concentration as he rapped his knuckles against the side of the helmet.

"Viktorrr!" Yuuri whined even louder.

The Russian slapped his chest, the thick layers of protection reducing the slaps to dull thuds. "I think you're good to go."

Yuuri rolled his eyes. "I'll be back."

"Don't let anyone get close enough to stab you!" Viktor called after him, watching as he sauntered off to join the rest of his group.

"Oh Viktor, you're the one who would be stupid enough to do that." Phichit sighed, patting the seat beside him.

Viktor plopped himself down with a sigh, "but I might not be the only one."

"It'll be fine, chill." Phichit crooned, slapping Viktor on the back.

"Yeah, Yuuri seemed pretty confident, he was a bundle of nerves last night."

"I noticed he didn't sleep in his own bed last night." Phichit narrowed his eyes as he tapped away on his laptop.

Viktor shrugged, "what of it? I slept on the floor."

"I'd hate to think you were stealing my best friend." Phichit scowled.

Viktor laughed, "we just had hot choc. Chill."

"Hot choc and chill, sure."

 

* * *

  

 The operation was up and going. Two teams had gone in, one from the eastern entrance and one on the northern entrance. This was routine, they weren't expecting any company.

"First room clear." Yuuri's voice crackled through the speakers.

Viktor leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, not really bothering to listen to the usual stuff.

"It stinks in here, the roofs are leaky as fuck and it smells like a fucking gas stat-"

"Yeah, wait." Yuuri paused. "Fuck! Everyone GET OUT NOW USE ANY DOOR! IT'S A TRAP!" Yuuri screeched.

Phichit froze. "What's going o-"

"P...Phichit..." Viktor stammered, "Phichit, look." Viktor pointed at one of the monitors connected to a camera facing the warehouse.

"Oh shit." Phichit choked.

The windows on the eastern side of the warehouse glowed a bright orange, the flames licking at the metal. They walked right into a trap, not nearly enough to warrant Crispino trapping them in a fiery inferno.

"Fuck fuck fuck! Katsuki! Yuuri, where the hell are you?" Smith's voice crackled through.

"What happened to Yuuri?" Phichit questioned frantically.

"W...we lost him. He must've gotten separated from the group. We've been split in two. I can't see shit. Katsuki!"

"Fuck, why is it always Yuuri?! Yuuri come in!" Phichit growled, slamming a fist down on the table.

"Both teams get out of there," Celestino ordered, as levelheaded as ever.

"They're shooting at us now too!" Smith replied, letting out an exasperated sigh.

Viktor swore under his breath. Crispino had spoken, she wasn't going to stop till she got blood.

"Yuuri! We're not getting anything from Yuuri." Phichit balled his hands up in his hair.

Viktor stilled, a voice echoing through his head. "You know it took a month for him to be okay with a flame on the stove," Minako had said.

Yuuri Katsuki was terrified of fire? The same man who would charge head long at a dozen heavily equipped men with only a knife in each of his hands. Viktor clenched and unclenched his hands, he knew what he needed to do.

"Yuuri? Katsuki come in!" Phichit screamed into his mike. "Please, Yuuri, be okay. His mike must've stopped working or something. Viktor?" Phichit turned, his eyes locking onto the empty seat beside him then to the back door of the van left ever so slightly ajar.

"Viktor?!" Phichit roared, silencing the bustle of the van for a moment. "You fucker, where the hell are you?"

"Geez, calm down Phichit." Viktor's voice crackled through the comms. "Mr Chulanont No Chills."

"I have every right to have no chills. Now you come back here right now or I swear to god I will hunt you and down and shoot your-" Phichit froze, his hand patting over his empty holster.

"Yeah, sorry, you were the closest."

"Your ass is gonna get locked up when you get back!"

"When I get back you'll be grateful I brought Yuuri back with me in one piece. So give me his last location." Viktor spat, his teasing tone disappearing.

"Room B7, but there's no way to get there one way is blocked by fire and the other way they're cornered by perps."

Viktor scoffed,"when has a few guys with guns ever stopped any- fuck!"

"Viktor?!"

"The captain said shoot to kill right?"

"Yes, but-" Phichit flinched as the sound of more shots rang through the speakers.

"They're shooting at me so this is legally self-defence," Viktor grumbled in a matter of fact tone. 

"Thank you, Viktor," Phichit whispered.

 

Viktor sighed, counting how many bullets he had left while bullets whizzed overhead. He leapt from his cover eyes, hands, feet and every other muscle moving in perfect unison to execute the few remaining men. Viktor felt the blood rushing through his veins, the feeling that both disgusted him and made him feel alive. He squinted about the darkened warehouse, the light from the fire giving just enough light for him to see.

"Yuuri?!"

His voice echoed against the walls, the sounds of men yelling further off was subdued by the metal walls.

"Yuuri! Where are you?"

Viktor threw open doors, getting more desperate by the moment. No one knew where Yuuri was, he was supposed to be here. Viktor wiped his sweating palms on his pants, his eyes were starting to sting from the smoke. If he wasn't quick, the smoke was going to smother him.

"What would Yuuri do?" He asked himself, pausing in his impatience to just stop and think.

Almost as if by some miracle Viktor's eyes flickered to something reflective on the other side of a column of flame which was ebbing a little. 

"Yuuri?!" Viktor cried, trying to peer through the flames. "Fuck," Viktor growled, shrugging off his jacket and wrapping the cloth, still damp from running in the rain, around his shoulders and head.

This was stupid and he knew it. At least he could tick 'jumping through fire' off his bucket list. He shrugged the jacket off on the other side, eyes immediately scanning through the darkness. And there he was, cowered in the corner, his eyes glued to the flames like he hadn't even noticed Viktor jump through them.

"Yuuri?" Viktor muttered, cupping the man's face in his hands.

"V...Viktor?" Yuuri's eyes seemed to finally focus on Viktor's face.

"Yuuri, I need you to listen to me."

Yuuri twisted his face, looking elsewhere. "Viktor, your arm. You've been shot."

Viktor looked, sure enough, there was a growing splotch of blood on his left arm. He hadn't even felt it until Yuuri pointed it out.

"Yuuri, look at me." Viktor shifted the younger man's face until he had no choice but to look at him.

"V...Viktor you're hurt." Yuuri whimpered, his irises drowning out the chocolate of his eyes.

"I'm fine." He coughed, the smoke was going to get to them if they didn't get out of here. "We need to get out of here. Can you walk?"

Yuuri nodded shakily. Viktor stood, trying to pull Yuuri up with him. Yuuri leaned heavily against him, his knees wobbly, his legs like jelly.

"I'm gonna put this over our heads." Viktor draped his jacket, which was still a little damp thankfully.

Yuuri gripped onto Viktor like his life depended on it, he probably realised what they were going to do and had turned to stone, rooting himself in the place.

"Yuuri please, we have to go. I promise it'll be okay." Viktor pleaded, his breathing becoming more laboured.

"T...there has to be another way." Yuuri stuttered, the plain terror on his face more pronounced than ever.

"Yuuri, I need you to trust me."

Yuuri pinched his eyes shut, giving a jerky nod. Viktor pulled them towards the fire, making that final jump with a roar of exertion. After getting past the fire it wasn't too much to walk out. Even with the smoke smothering them, Yuuri seemed to be getting clearer by the moment.

The two stumbled out, still leaning against each other, into the fresh air of the night, both relishing the feeling of rain against their faces before promptly collapsing to the ground in a heap.

"I'm alive." Yuuri huffed.

"You're..." Viktor paused for a breath,"welcome."

"V...Viktor." Yuuri muttered, flipping on his side, their faces so close their breath was mingling. "P...please, don't tell Phichit."

Viktor sighed. "Okay."

"Promise?" Yuuri held out a pinkie.

Viktor reached out and hooked their pinkies. "Pinkie...promise."

Yuuri's eyes fluttered closed, letting their hands, still entwined by that single finger, fall onto the pavement between them.

"Yuu..ri..." Viktor mumbled, trying to keep his eyes open till a blurry Phichit appeared in the edges of his vision.

 

* * *

  

Viktor winced as the doctor tightened the bandage on his arm.

"You're an idiot," Yuuri grumbled, swinging his legs from the bed opposite.

"It's just a flesh wound."

"And what if it nicked an artery instead?"

Viktor shut his mouth.

Yuuri opened his mouth as if to continue criticising him, but instead locked his lips together, letting silence fill the space between them. They watched each other passively, not bothering to avert their gazes

A knock jolted them both.

"How are my boys doing?" Celestino asked, popping his head into the room.

"They'll both be fine after a good rest. Smoke inhalation was very mild." The nurse murmured.

Celestino glanced between the two, the silence between them unnerving.

"Right, both of you are going home, I'll find someone to drive you and you're getting tomorrow off too. I'll be having words with both you when you get back."

Viktor and Yuuri nodded.

 

Smith swallowed a lump in his throat. He was pretty sure he was suffocating in the car from the heavy atmosphere. Yuuri and Viktor were sitting at the back of the car, both looking out the windows and not a word passing between them.

Not a single word.

If there was a moment when they weren't talking, one would probably take the peace and run with it, but this was weirdly oppressive. If Snith didn't know better he would've thought WW3 had started. Did they have a fight or something? Smith pulled up outside the safe house, turning to face them.

He coughed, trying to get their attention. "Guys, we're here." 

"O...oh. Thanks for the ride." Viktor stuttered out, leaning over Yuuri to open his door and shove the dazed younger man out of the car.

"Goodnight," Viktor called, dragging Yuuri by the arm towards the house.

Viktor glanced at Yuuri. His eyes were glazed over and he seemed not to be paying attention to where they were going.

"Yuuri?" Viktor prodded the man worriedly, digging his key out of his pocket and opening the door.

Viktor peeled his jacket and shirt off and tossed them into a basket in the laundry. 

"I need a showe-" his thoughts were interrupted by what sounded like a loud thud in the corridor.

Yuuri.

He dashed into the corridor, eyes immediately moving to where they'd stepped inside. Yuuri was on the ground, trembling.

"Yuuri?" Viktor screeched, dropping to his knees beside the man.

Yuuri had a hand clutched to his chest, the other fisted in Viktor's shirt.

"I'm...s...sorry." He sobbed.

"Yuuri, please, talk to me," Viktor whispered, holding a firm hand on Yuuri's shoulder.

"I'll be okay I just...I can't breathe." Yuuri choked.

"Do you need me to get something, call Phichit?"

"No!" He cried, throwing his arms around Viktor's shoulder and burying his face in the man's neck. "J...just stay here."

Viktor shifted Yuuri into his lap, holding the man closely until his breathing slowed a little.

"You okay?" Viktor murmured, his lips pressed to Yuuri's hair, Yuuri's natural scent cutting through the smell of fire

"My parents died in a fire."

"I knew."

Yuuri leaned away for a moment, his eyes widening.

"Minako told me."

Yuuri sniffled. "It was arson."

"Oh."

"They didn't stand a c...chance and I was fucking useless I should've...I should've died with them, I'm so fucking useless!" Yuuri howled, burying his face in Viktor's neck.

"Shh, it's gonna be okay."

"I'm fucking useless." Yuuri sobbed, "I became a cop because I wanted to feel like I could do something. Like it would make up for the people that I let die."

 

* * *

 

Detroit 2009, The Yuutopia Onsen

 

Yuuri jogged down the road, his skates jostled around a little his back pack. Vicchan ran beside him, his tongue lolling out on one side of his mouth. Yuuri had picked up the habit of sneaking out at night to go skating, he loved it. Loved the feeling of gliding across the ice, the feeling of the completely empty rink and the cool air on his face.

His parents seemed to have figured it out pretty quickly, but they didn't mind as long as he was careful on his way home. He jogged around the last corner, his ears perking to the sound of yelling in the distance, that was odd. Yuuri's eyes widened even further as Yutopia came into view. Flames licked at the windows, quickly spreading across the traditional wooden building. Vicchan whimpered beside him.

"Fuck!" Yuuri screamed, hastily tying Vicchan's lead around the nearest pole.

He yanked his phones out of his pocket, dialling 911 as quickly as his shaking fingers would allow. He spat the address out at them, barely noticing as he dropped his phone and bag down beside Vicchan. He shrugged his jacket off, using it to jump through the fiery doorway of his own home.

"Mari?! Mum, Dad!" He screamed, barely able to see through his tears and the smoke.

He stumbled over to the stairwell, pressing a cautious foot on the first step. He bounded up the stairs in threes, hoping it would be able to hold his weight. He looked right to where his parent's bedroom should've been, instead he was faced with a set of beams which had fallen down. His sister was trapped under one. He bit back the tears as he dropped to the ground in front of her.

"Mari, oh Mari," he whimpered, shaking her shoulder.

"Y...Yuuri?" She muttered, looking up.

"Mari, we need to get this off you."

"I...I can't feel my legs, Yuuri." She whimpered.

"It's gonna be okay. On my count of 3, I'm gonna lift and you're gonna push as hard as you can, okay?"

"Yuuri, please, you have to get out of here." She coughed.

"One, two."

"Yuuri, please." She pleaded, tears streaming down her face.

"Three!" Yuuri pushed the beam up with all his strength, the goddamn thing barely budging.

"Yuuri!" Mari sobbed.

"I'm...not...leaving you here! Fuck." Yuuri stumbled back, wiping at his eyes.

"Yuuri, stop."

Yuuri grabbed the beam again, screaming as he lifted.

"Yuuri, listen to me! I'm your big sister! Listen to me!"

"No, I'm not gonna stop, don't make me stop! You're all I have left!" Yuuri screamed, tears streaming freely down his face.

"Mum and Dad will never forgive me if I let you die here, please." She reached out and placed a shaking hand on his ashen cheeks.

"Please, just, try one more time. I promise. We're both gonna be okay."

"Okay." She coughed, pressing her elbows into the floor.

"One, Two," He started

"Three!" They roared together.

By some miracle, Yuuri did lift the beam just high enough for Mari to drag herself out from underneath it, but as he did he saw, from the corner of his eyes, flames engulf the stairwell.

"Shit."

Mari leant against him heavily, blood soaking through the sleeve of her jinbei.

"We need to get out." She huffed, opening one eye to look at the stairwell. "I guess the stairs aren't gonna be an option."

"We're trapped." Yuuri choked, trying to cover his mouth with his sleeve.

"You're a fool, brother."

Yuuri watched as the flames licked at the edge of the landing they sat precariously on. They were surrounded, on one side by a wall, the other was blocked by beams, the third was Yuuri's room on fire and lastly, a 3-metre drop into the fiery floor below. Yuuri searched for a way out, but there was none as the fire ebbed closer, the flames from below starting to burn the edges of the landing. Suddenly, the floor lurched, most of it breaking away into the flames below. Yuuri grabbed his sister's hand, clutching at her wrist as she slid over the edge.

"M...Mari...hold on!" He hissed, between gritted teeth.

"Yuuri," she murmured softly, almost peacefully.

"Mari!"

"There's an exit behind you. There's a tiny window near the ceiling."

"We're gonna be okay!" Yuuri choked, his voice cracking.

A piece of burning wood dislocated itself from the ceiling, falling on to Yuuri's back. He hissed, his grip on his sister's wrist faltering momentarily.

"Yuuri, please."

"No, no, no please no don't please no." Yuuri pleaded as his knees gave, sliding him closer to the edge, his sister dangling even closer to the flames.

"Yuuri, I love you."

"Mari...no please." He sobbed.

"Promise me, you won't blame yourself."

"I'm not making any fucking promises!" Yuuri screamed, his grip slipping even further.

"Mum and Dad would be so proud of you." She whispered, her fingers reaching up to caress his.

"No, Mari no, please, no don't do this. I can save us I can save you it'll be okay. Don't leave me please."

"I'm sorry I won't be there for your 18th birthday, Yuuri." Tears flowed freely down her face as her fingers dug at Yuuri's, disengaging his fingers from her wrist.

"Mari!" Yuuri howled.

"We love you." She mouthed as she fell, disappearing into the flames below.

 

Yuuri wasn't quite sure how he made it out of the house, but still, there he was, alive. He lay on his side on the concrete side walk, his entire body numb.

"Please, don't leave me. Don't leave me. Don't leave me here. Don't leave me alone. Don't leave me this way." He sobbed.

 A strangled howl clawed its way out of his chest, tearing through the silence of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Yuuri T - T
> 
> That's all for this week! I'll se you all next Monday <3 please leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed!


	23. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri recovers from the mishaps at the warehouse and is back on his feet, except things aren't quite right.

 

Yuuri nodded shakily. "I'm so sorry about this." Yuuri sat up shakily in his lap, bracing his hands against Viktor's shoulders.

"It's okay." Viktor murmured, smiling gently at Yuuri.

Yuuri looked down and flushed. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'll get out of your lap." Yuuri scrambled backwards hitting the wall with a thud.

"It's okay, really. Stop apologis-"

Yuuri groaned, dropped to his knees and puked onto the carpet at Viktor's feet.

"Shit, Yuuri." Viktor held Yuuri by his shoulders, watching worriedly as another wave of gagging shook his body.

"I...think I'm done now," Yuuri mumbled, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Ugh, I stink. Vomit, sweat and fire." Yuuri grimaced as he said the last word.

"You want a bath?"

Yuuri smiled weakly. "That would be nice."

"Can you stand?" Viktor asked, hooking a hand under each of Yuuri's arms.

"I...don't think so." 

"Let me help you."

Yuuri nodded, letting Viktor pick him up, an arm under his shoulders and an arm under his legs.

"This isn't so bad, we should do this more often." Viktor smiled, clutching the man to his chest as if he were a fragile glass figure.

Yuuri shrugged, his head snuggled against Viktor's shoulder, he reached out to twirl a few locks of Viktor's silver hair in his fingers. Eventually, they made it to the bathroom, Viktor struggling to switch the light on with his elbow. He flicked the toilet lid down with his foot and sat Yuuri down.

"I'm gonna get the water going."

Yuuri nodded. "You mind if I uh...take my clothes off..here...while I'm waiting?"

Viktor shrugged, hoping that his blush wasn't spreading beyond his face. He was sometimes a full body blusher so this was going to be hella embarrassing. Viktor nearly squeaked when Yuuri leaned into the edges of his vision (in a fluffy looking bathrobe, thank god) to test the temperature of the water.

"This is nice," Yuuri murmured.

Viktor would've asked, whether he was referring to the fact that Yuuri could actually breathe normally now or that they were doing this, whatever this was. 

"Are bath oils okay for you?"

"Well, I don't usually bath let alone pamper myself."

"Oh, Yuuri." Viktor sighed, grabbing his favourite bath oil and dribbling some into the bath.

"Mm, smells like you." Yuuri blushed. "T...that sounded creepy, I'm sorry."

"N...no it's okay. It was a perfectly objective statement." Viktor's blush raged even stronger, an 'objective statement' what kind of stupid ass answer was that?

The two stayed silent for a while, their blushes slowly fading. 

"Right, I think the water is ready."

"Thanks, Viktor."

"You can handle washing yourself, right?" Viktor sighed, checking the temperature one last time.

"Is that an offer?" Yuuri laughed teasingly.

"N...no, I..."

"Viktor, relax. I was joking." Yuuri laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"I...I knew that!" He scoffed, getting up and making his way out of the bathroom. "Enjoy your bath. I'll fix some dinner up."

Viktor shut the door behind him, collapsing against the wall and sliding down till he was curled up on the ground. Yuuri was insufferably adorable. A moment later a squeak rang out of the bathroom. Viktor scrambled to his feet and knocked on the door rapidly.

"Yuuri? Are you okay?"

"Uh...you know... your offer to help me? Is that still standing?" Yuuri laughed nervously.

Viktor opened the door slowly, peeking his head in. Yuuri was sitting naked on the tiles, a single leg and a single arm hanging into the tub. The rest of him was out of it. 

"Uh, I'll help." Viktor awkwardly crossed the bathroom and knelt behind Yuuri, picking him up under the arms and lifting him into the tub.

"Thanks." Yuuri murmured.

"No problem." Viktor stood and brushed himself off.

Yuuri tucked his knees against his chest, propping up his chin against his knees.

"Yuuri?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want me to wash your hair?" Viktor screamed internally. Why did he ask that!? 

 

He'll never know.

 

"I...if you could, please. My arms feel like complete jelly." Yuuri smiled weakly.

Viktor pulled a stool over and rolled his sleeves up. He scooped a little water up and splashed onto Yuuri's hair. When he was satisfied with how wet the silky black locks were, Viktor reached for Yuuri's usual shampoo, pouring a decent amount directly onto his head. Yuuri, who had been sitting mostly in complete silence, shivered at the contact. 

 

Viktor gently began lathering the shampoo into his hair, scraping his fingers gently over the younger man's scalp. He liked it when his mother did this for him as a child, she had loved running her fingers through his long silver locks. He ran his fingers through Yuuri's hair, gently undoing the surprisingly scarce knots. He massaged his scalp gently, barely noticing when Yuuri started purring under his fingers. He took a moment to actually look at Yuuri, who was leaning back into his fingers, his eyes closed, mouth curled into a small smile. He scooped water in his hands, rinsing through Yuuri's hair.

"Yuuri?"

"Yeah?"

"Feeling better?"

Yuuri nodded.

"Dinner?"

Yuuri shook his head. "I think I just want a nap."

Viktor nodded, he continued massaging Yuuri's head. 

 

After a while, he dipped a hand in the water. 

"Yuuri, the water is getting cold."

"Oh, yeah."

"Come on, let's get you to bed." Viktor murmured, grabbing Yuuri's bathrobe.

 

After some awkward fumbling, they managed to get Yuuri back into his robe without flashing Viktor too much and dragged him back to his room. Yuuri pressed his thumb against the fingerprint reader. A green light blinking was accompanied by a small beep.

"Thanks for everything, Viktor."

"You're sure you don't want dinner?"

Yuuri nodded.

"You won't need help getting dressed, will you?"

"Viktor, I'm not that bad. I can look after myself...for the most part," Yuuri sighed, giving him a tired smile.

"Sorry."

"I should be the one that's sorry, and Viktor, could you not tell Phichit about what happened? I'm fine, really, it was just a one-off thing."

Viktor narrowed his eyes. "...Okay, sure. Goodnight then."

"Goodnight."

 

Viktor let out a huff after the door was closed. He glanced down the corridor and noticed the patch of vomit on the ground. Shit. He left that stewing there for the better part of an hour. Viktor paced over, pressing a finger to his lips. 

Should he eat first and then clean the vomit, there was relatively little harm in leaving it there another ten minutes, or clean and then eat with his murdered appetite. Viktor checked his watch. 7:15 on the dot, Phichit would be home soon. Vomit first it was. Viktor gathered a few cleaning items from the laundry sink and gloves. He started by scraping whatever he could off the carpet, trying not to note the texture. 

 

* * *

 

 Phichit unlocked the door and immediately noted that Viktor was kneeling just a metre away, scrubbing at the ground in his Gucci or whatever suit. 

"Viktor?"

"O...oh, hey."

"What are you doing?"

"Uh, cleaning?" Viktor held up a sponge in his gloved hand. 

Phichit rolled his eyes, "cleaning what?"

"I dropped some food on the ground."

Phichit consciously chose not to call Viktor out on his obvious lie. Firstly, he could smell the vomit from here, even over all the bleach Viktor looked to be pouring over it. And secondly, how on earth do you spill food right in front of the door like that?

"Where's Yuuri?"

"He wanted to turn in early."

"Is he okay?"

Viktor's lips squeezed into a tight line. "He's fine."

Phichit sighed, he was lying again. Phichit wasn't sure what happened in that warehouse but he'd checked Yuuri's comm. It was working perfectly. He also couldn't be sure what made Viktor jump headfirst into those flames just to find Yuuri. They hadn't even been sure Yuuri was lost at all, in fact, they still weren't sure because Yuuri had just said his mike hadn't been working, which was a blatant lie. Phichit checked himself. Something was up and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

 

* * *

 

The next morning Phichit woke up before Yuuri, so he left him sleeping there, they could always talk later. A few hours later Phichit was bundled up on the couch watching the King and the Skater II for probably the 30th time. He always does this when he's bored.

 Viktor meanwhile was sitting on the couch adjacent, reading his newspaper. It's almost like neither of them having anything better to do since Yuuri seemed like he'd planned to sleep the entire day. The two of them perked up at the sound of the toilet flushing and slumped back down when the sound of a door slamming closed echoed back down the hall.

"It's past noon," Viktor sighed, looking down at his watch.

"I know. He does have the day off, he doesn't need to wake up anyway."

Viktor stood up and brushed himself off.

"True," Viktor sighed, massaging his temples.

"Are you worried?"

"Can you blame me?"

"Both of you collapsed outside of a burning warehouse. If anything you should be resting too."

Viktor shrugged. "I'm fine." He strode off into the kitchen.

 

Five minutes later, Viktor reappeared from the kitchen, a plate covered with foil in his hand. Phichit watched curiously, getting up from his comfortable spot on the couch to follow quietly. Viktor padded down the corridor, his hand held up hesitantly in front of Yuuri's room. Viktor rapped his knuckles against the door gently.

"Yuuri?"

Silence.

"Yuuri, I know you're awake. At least come out and eat something."

More silence.

"I've got a plate of Katsudon, I'll leave it outside your room." Viktor bent down and placed the plate on the ground, balancing the eating utensils on top of it.

He stepped back slowly, noticing Phichit watching him curiously.

"What are you doing?" Phichit whispered.

"I don't know," Viktor muttered, shaking his head.

Phichit looked at Viktor incredulously. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the click of the door opening further down the corridor. Viktor jumped behind the wall and watched quietly.

A pair of hands inched out slowly, grasping the edges of the plate. With a steady hold, Yuuri yanked the plate back into his room, the door slamming shut a moment later. Phichit looked up at Viktor who seemed to be smiling to himself quietly. Was Viktor looking out for Yuuri? Phichit waited till Viktor walked off, probably returning to his newspaper, before sneaking back up the corridor to his and Yuuri's room. He pressed his finger against the print scanner, opening the door as softly as he could.

 

Yuuri sat up, bundled up in a blanket, unwrapping the Katsudon slowly, not noticing that Phichit was watching him.

"Y...Yuuri?"

Yuuri's head whipped up, his hand immediately moving for the dinner knife beside him. "O...oh, Phichit it's just you."

"Y...yeah, Viktor made that for you, huh?"

Yuuri nodded.

"Smells good, huh?"

Yuuri nodded.

"You gonna eat it?"

Yuuri nodded, turning back to unwrapping the plate. "You know, my mum used to make me Katsudon and leave it the door for me when I refused to eat. Just like this." Yuuri smiled bitterly.

"Oh, Yuuri," Phichit whispered, his smile faltering.

Yuuri's stomach growled as he shovelled rice and katsudon into his mouth.

"Do you want me to leave?" Phichit asked.

Yuuri shook his head.

"Why are you hiding in your room?"

Yuuri finished chewing on his mouthful. "I needed space."

"From Viktor?"

Yuuri gave a jerky nod.

"Okay, just remember that you're supposed to work together so space isn't exactly going to work. Have you tried talking to him about it?"

Yuuri nodded hesitantly.

"Have you or haven't you?"

"I...I have...kind of."

 

* * *

 

Detroit, Early 2010

 

Minako bit her nails, watching as Yuuri stretched rinkside.

"Minako, relax." Yuuko sighed, resting her hands on the older woman's shoulders gently.

"I can't. It's been two months since he's touched the ice. He's okay, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Just take it easy, he just needs some time getting readjusted is all." Yuuko smiled gently.

"T...thank you for being here."

"No problem, Takeshi was worried too you know."

Takeshi snorted, "Yuuri is a tough bastard, he'll be okay."

Yuuri looked up and gave the three of them a shaky smile. "I'm r...ready I think."

"Okay, just take it slow, Yuuri." Minako sighed, helping the young man onto his feet.

"Gosh, I feel like I haven't skated in ages." Yuuri chuckled nervously as he waddled over to the rink entrance. 

The three watching over him held their breaths as he skated out into the centre of the rink.

"He's okay," Minako breathed.

Takeshi gripped Yuuko's hand tightly in his own. He was wearing his own skates, ready to go in case anything happened, as much as he hoped everything would be okay.

 

Yuuri paused in the middle of the rink, he's eyes downcast. How did his program go again? He can't remember. How was he supposed to skate? He doesn't remember. How is he supposed to move his feet? He doesn't remember. How do you breathe? He doesn't remember.

The next thing Yuuri registered is how cold the ice feels against his fingers, tears stinging his eyes and sobs wracking his body. His fingers stung a little, just like they did when he was here two months ago practising late into the night when he should've been at home. He should've been there, should've done something, should've saved someone. He was sorry. Sorry that he let them all down, he let them all die. He killed them all.

 

Takeshi dragged a thrashing, screaming Yuuri off the ice, trying not to cry as his friend of 10 years babbled incoherently about how he deserved to die.

 

After Yuuri's premature retirement he returned to high school and that was how Phichit and Yuuri met. Yuuri was a struggler in class after being away so long, a quiet wallflower and Phichit was a popular, fairly rebellious teenager. 

 

Phichit was friends with everyone, except this one new kid who had transferred into the school in the middle of the year. Of course, Phichit was a master at making friends, he had thousands of friends on Facebook just to back it up, but Yuuri was a different story. Yuuri was like someone handed him a jigsaw puzzle that was missing pieces and some of the pieces that were there were just blank slates. Some pieces didn't even fit. 

It took Phichit weeks to have a solid conversation with the other boy and months before they really got to know each other. Phichit made his first real friend. Not someone he smiled and took selfies with every day, but someone who he didn't take selfies with and who was much, much more precious to him. He had quickly realised that Yuuri was a fragile creature and often resorted to running to the bathroom and crying, which was okay with Phichit, he was slowly learning how to deal with everything that was this anxious ball of nerves. 

 

One day, someone pulled Phichit aside and told him something that he laughed at for ten minutes straight. Yuuri was a professional, internationally competing figure skater. Sure, Yuuri was passionate about figure skating and had even managed to get Phichit hooked. This was a joke, a prank by some idiot trying to get a reaction out of the one and only prank master, Phichit Chulanont.

Except, they weren't joking. He honestly could not believe that Yuuri, skittish, clumsy and bashful Yuuri, had been a competing figure skater. Phichit quickly recognised the pattern, Yuuri always chose what competitions they watched and made sure it was never one Yuuri himself had competed in. Phichit was more than prepared to ask why he was so embarrassed about his own skating till someone explained it for Yuuri.

 

"There was an accident, he lost his whole family and he was forced into retirement because he wasn't mentally fit to return to the ice." The person had uttered, a devastated look on their face.

 

Phichit wanted to know, but instead, he did his research and made sure he knew Yuuri's competitions by heart. He bunkered down and waited for the day Yuuri would open up and tell him.

 

When Yuuri did eventually come back to the ice, it wasn't the same, not for 7 years at least. That is, not until Viktor Nikiforov came crashing into their lives like a hurricane.

 

* * *

 

 A week later in present time, Detroit

 

Viktor tapped his fingers against the desk rapidly.

"Yuuko..." He grumbled.

"Yes?"

"Yuuri has been ignoring me."

Yuuko scoffed, "what are you talking about?"

"Oh please, I'm not stupid. I know when someone is ignoring me. Especially after a week," Viktor sighed.

"Okay, give me a specific example."

"He shut me out of his office."

"Maybe he just wants to concentrate?"

"He didn't eat breakfast till I was in the shower."

"That's just ...a coincidence!"

"That's happened for the last 4 days in a row and he's been taking dinner to his room."

"Okay..." Yuuko sucked in a deep breath.

"We haven't had a conversation longer than 5 words in the last 4 going on 5 days!" Viktor keened.

"Okay, I don't think I can deny it anymore." Yuuko facepalmed.

"I don't know what to do..."

"Maybe ask Phichit?" 

Viktor sighed and stood grumpily, shuffling over to Phichit's work station.

"Hey, Phichit."

"Yo, what up?"

"Is Yuuri ignoring me?"

Phichit let out a long and painful sigh. "Have you tried asking him?"

"That sounds like a bad ide-" Viktor froze mid-sentence, his eyes glued into the distance.

"Viktor?"

Viktor literally turned and sprinted away like a rabbit, leaving Phichit completely dumbfounded.

"What got Nikiforov's knickers in such a knot?" Smith leaned over and asked.

"I don't..." Phichit's eyes followed a set of strangers waiting in front of the captain's office, one of them making their way towards Phichit.

"Oh yeah, some guys from 11th."

It was just one moment but Phichit was certain he'd seen a flash of blue, he'd find out soon enough, the guy looked like he was walking straight here. Phichit got a very good look once he was close enough and yes, his eyes hadn't been lying to him, he did see that familiar, icy blue.

"Hi, sorry. Would you know where Viktor went?"

"Huh? Viktor? You know him?"

The man nodded. Phichit nearly shivered as his eyes met the man's. They were the same. Exactly the fricking same.

"Try Yuuri's office." Phichit pointed across the room. "Room 14."

The man nodded. "I couldn't thank you enough. Ivanekov, by the way." He offered a confident handshake before walking away.

"What the fuck is going on..." Phichit muttered to himself.

 

 Yuuri nearly jumped out of his seat as Viktor barrelled into the room, slamming the door closed behind him.

"Hi, Yuuri, how are you going? Good? That's good! Did I ever tell you about why I avoided Detroit for the life of me until now? Seriously this is bad bad bad bad bad." Viktor ranted, his breaths shaky.

Viktor was shaking, he looked petrified, more terrified than Yuuri had ever seen him before. More terrified than Yuuri thought he was capable of looking.

"Are you okay?" Yuuri stood, pressing a hand to Viktor's forehead.

He was sweating like mad, all the colour drained from his cheeks.

"Yuuri, please, help me, I need to hide!

"N...no, Viktor why did you just-" 

The door flew open once again, an officer stepping through the door. The air froze, Viktor's body language changed, his backs straightening, shoulders squared, shifting till he was standing between Yuuri and the newcomer. In the blink of an eye, Viktor's stance had moved from defensive to outright offensive, the muscles in his neck taut as a bowstring.

Viktor was standing squarely between Yuuri and their guest, almost like he was trying to defend him. Ever so slowly, Yuuri leaned to a side, peering at the stranger. He was hit with a strong sense of deja vu. He would recognise those piercing cerulean eyes anywhere, even if they were glued to a head with a greying mop of brown.

"It's been a while, son." The stranger uttered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUNNNNNNN!!!! The father will be revealed next chapter! Hope you enjoyed today's chapter <3 comment, subscribe, bookmarks or leave kudos if you enjoyed.
> 
> The next chapter will be published next Monday!


	24. Charred Ribbons and Unspoken Words

Yuuri was about, 99.99999% sure he'd misheard. Did the police officer just say 'son'? Viktor glanced back at Yuuri, his eyes screaming caution.

 "P...please, don't run away, Viktor." 

Viktor shrugged. "Not exactly anywhere I can run here."

"I got clean, stopped gambling. Remarried too, I've got two beautiful daughters. You remember Marisia, right?"

"Yeah, I remember you fucking her behind mom's back," Viktor spat, his voice full of menace.

The officer swallowed, his hands wrung together in front of him. The two remained silent and stiff, the air weighing down on Yuuri till he felt like couldn't breathe.

"I heard your mother got remarried. that's g-"

"She died 12 years ago."

"O...oh."

"Yeah."

Another awkward silence.

"You're a cop then?"

Viktor laughed, mockingly almost. "What are you blind, old man?" Viktor held up his cuffed hands.

"Wait." Viktor's father leaned to a side, peering around at Yuuri who was hiding awkwardly behind Viktor. "You're Katsuki, Yuuri Katsuki. So you're..." 

"Nikiforov." Viktor finished.

His father's face fell into a small 'o'.

"Nikifor was the name of your mother's first cat." 

Yuuri was very confused now. Viktor stood and sauntered to the door, pausing when he stood side by side with the man.

"I would say it's nice to see you," Viktor sneered. "But I'm a fucking terrible liar."

Viktor shoved past the man and opened the door, slamming it closed behind him.

 

"I am so, so sorry. Viktor usually isn't like this I don't know what-"

"It's okay, with all due respect, I was the one who came barging in here. He has every right to hate me anyway." The man smiled sadly.

"A...are you his father? I was pretty sure Viktor had no living next of kin."

"Knowing him he meddled with the family register anyway, don't be surprised if anyone who is registered as his family never actually existed."

"O...okay."

"I'm sorry for interrupting, keep up the good work." The man turned and walked out.

"W...wait!" Yuuri called, letting out a frustrated growl into his hands when the guy had already disappeared.

Yuuri yanked his jacket off the back of his chair and barrelled out of the room, barely remember to shut the door behind him. He spotted the man exiting on the opposite side of the room.

"Yuuri?" Phichit called.

"Fuck," Yuuri growled.

"Yuuri...?"

"Oh, hey, what's up? Look, I really have to run."

"Yuuri, we're going home. Viktor just walked out of your office looking like he'd seen a ghost. We're waiting for you. What's going on?"

"I...I'll just meet you at the car, okay?" Yuuri mumbled as he jogged after Viktor's dad. He punched the lift buttons impatiently, he turned, shoving the fire escape door open and flying down the steps 3 at a time. At the ground floor, he dashed out towards the car park, immediately spotting the man and his partner making their way towards their car.

"Hey!" It occurred to Yuuri that he didn't even know the man's name since it probably wasn't Nikiforov.

He turned, his icy eyes widening.

"Yes?"

"C...could we talk? Just a few minutes of your time, please." Yuuri huffed, bending down to lean against his knees.

"O...okay."

"What's your name?"

"Ivanekov. Peter Ivanekov."

"And Viktor was born..?"

"Viktor Petrovich Ivanekov."

Yuuri nodded. "Thanks. Um, do you think, some day Viktor would be willing to see you again?"

Peter shrugged. "I don't know. How would you feel if you created the White Demon of Russia? I don't think he'd ever voluntarily forgive me."

Yuuri's eyes widened. "Hey, you should be proud of Viktor and everyone deserves a second chance. He's not just the White Demon. His name is Viktor and he's doing something good now."

Peter looked at him and chuckled bitterly. "I blame myself more than anything, but it seems he's quite attached to you. He was pretty possessive as a child."

Yuuri blinked. Was Viktor possessive?

"Well, goodnight, detective. You know where to find me if you need me." Peter nodded, turning back to his very confused looking partner.

Yuuri turned and walked back to the car where Phichit was waiting, visibly tired and pissed. He jogged over and apologised profusely to everyone in the car. Viktor sat, scrunched up against the opposite door staring out the window. He looked like he didn't want to talk. At least Phichit was sitting between them and filling the drive with idle chatter.

"Uh, I gotta stop by the supermarket real quick. Gotta buy something." Yuuri muttered to Smith.

"Kay." Smith shrugged, turning left towards the shopping centre.

"Yuuri?" Viktor whispered behind Phichit's shoulder.

"What?"

"Could I come with you, I need to buy some food."

"Sure. Not like you can run anywhere."

Viktor nodded. "Thanks."

 

As soon as the car stopped, Yuuri hopped out and walked off, not even waiting for Viktor. Viktor probably was just going to pretend like it didn't happen. Viktor caught up in a few strides and the pair remained in silence.  As they continued walking Viktor stopped staring at Yuuri's back for a second and looked around him. They were in the pets aisle of the supermarket.

"Pets?"

"Yeah. I need to get a new collar for my dog."

"Wait. What?"

"A new collar for my dog."

"You have a dog?"

"Y...yeah."

"You never told me!"

"I guess it never came up. He lives with Minako because my old apartment didn't allow pets."

"But what about Phichit's hamsters?"

Yuuri chuckled. "I'm surprised you remembered. They're small enough for him to keep them hidden."

"I see." Viktor watched as Yuuri pored over the collars.

"You know if you didn't want to get dragged to boring places you shouldn't have come back and gotten caught in the first place." Yuuri sighed. 

Just keep pretending nothing happened, they could talk about things later.

"I came back of my own volition you know, I don't mind being collared, as long as it's you." Viktor grinned at Yuuri, holding up a bright blue collar.

Yuuri gawked at him like somehow Viktor had offended his grandmother.

"Did I say something wr-" Viktor started before Yuuri clamped his hand over Viktor's mouth.

"There are children here!" Yuuri hissed, a blush spreading across his cheeks rapidly.

Viktor glanced around, mothers seemed to be giving them side eye, their hands clamped firmly over their children's ears.

He released Viktor's mouth, which has fallen into an 'o'.

"Oh. Ohhhh. No one had to interpret it like that."

"Oh Jesus fucking Christ," Yuuri grumbled. "We are getting out of this aisle before someone reports us."

Yuuri grabbed Viktor's hand and towed him away, his chosen collar in hand.

"What did you want to buy?" Yuuri asked, stopping suddenly enough for Viktor to crash into his back.

"Yuuri!" Viktor whined, rubbing his nose. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Yuuri grumbled.

"Vegetables, I need vegetables." Viktor pouted, shuffling towards the array of fruits and vegetables.

"What vegetables are you looking for?"

"Depends on what you want for dinner?" Viktor muttered, examining a potato.

"How about borscht?"

"Borscht? Again, Yuuri?" Viktor groaned.

"What? You love borscht, don't you?"

"I do, but this is would be the fourth time we've had borscht this week. You're becoming more Russian than me." Viktor laughed.

"Well, I'll be damned." Minako crowed from behind them, causing the two men to jumping apart.

"Minako!" Yuuri screeched.

"Yuuri, Viktor, what a coincidence that I caught you here! I was just about to call Yuuri."

"Me? Why?" Yuuri muttered, glancing at Viktor who watched on passively.

"Yuuri, I can't believe you'd forget. It's the first Saturday of the month."

"Oh, shit. Katsudon Saturday." Yuuri choked.

Viktor raised an eyebrow.

"I see you two were planning to have dinner. Why don't you join us Viktor?"

Viktor opened his mouth, knowing it was only right to politely decline, but what excuse could he possibly use. Before he could decline Yuuri stepped in.

"Yeah, that sounds cool, don't you think, Viktor?" Yuuri looked at Viktor, his gaze piercing.

Viktor was pretty sure he couldn't disagree. "Yeah, dinner is dinner."

"Glorious! Did you guys get here by car or?"

"Bus," Yuuri interjected.

"Oh, I can drive you straight over to my house then!"

Yuuri nodded, taking Viktor's hand as Minako led them away. Viktor stared absently at where they were linked, not even noticing as they piled into the backseat of Minako's car. Yuuri leaned over, his breath ghosting over Viktor's ear.

"Let me do the talking, okay?" Yuuri whispered in Italian.

Viktor shivered and nodded.

"I was just dropping by the supermarket to buy some extra ingredients that I forgot. I'm getting old and forgetful, you know?" Minako chirped, blabbering away excitedly.

"Oh, you're not old, Minako." Viktor giggled.

"Oh Viktor, I'm turning 50 this year!"

"No way, you're much too beautiful and too energetic to be that old!"

Minako chuckled,"you know exactly what to say, don't you?"

Viktor shrugged, "what can I say? I have a way with words."

"Not when you really need it," Yuuri smirked, elbowing him.

"Yuuri! You wound me." Viktor whined, rubbing his arm.

"Ugh, you two are so cute, you're gonna give me a cavity here."

Yuuri made a gagging noise and blushed, his face was down in his phone, probably texting Phichit about the change of plans. This was going to be an interesting evening.

Within a few minutes, they were pulling up in front of Minako's house. Viktor twisted, his hand still oddly intertwined with Yuuri's, as they waited for Minako to unlock her door. 

"Minako-sensei!" Three girls screamed, arms crossed as they stood in the foyer.

"Girls, meet Yuuri's new boyfriend!" Minako squealed, gesturing to Viktor.

"Oh my god," the first girl muttered.

"His hair," the second continued.

"Is beautiful," the last finished.

"Come in, come in Viktor. You need to meet Yuuko and Takeshi as well."

Viktor froze, a resounding fuck echoing through his head. He looked back at Yuuri, a pleading look in his eyes. Yuuri just glanced at him passively, apparently unbothered by this whole situation they had created.

"Yuuko, come meet Yuuri's boyfriend!" Minako called, grinning as Yuuko hurried out of the kitchen, her hair tied up in a messy bun.

"Minako, what are you talking about? Yuuri doesn't have a-" Yuuko froze mid-step.

"This beautiful specimen here is Viktor Nicholson."

"What's going on out h-" Takeshi grumbled, walking out from behind Yuuko.

"Hi, nice to meet you all." Viktor smiled meekly.

"Yuuri, is this true?" Takeshi asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

"Oh Takeshi, why are you so surprised Yuuri has nabbed himself such a dashing young man?"

Yuuri smiled, wrapped an arm around Viktor's waist and tugged him closer.

"This is my boyfriend, Viktor."

Viktor blushed furiously, Yuuri's hands feeling as if they were burning into his hip.

"Uncle Yuuri has never mentioned a boyfriend before!" One of the sisters screeched

"Yes, he has! Uncle Yuuri has had exes."

"Why are you talking about the past? Look at uncle Viktor he's the most beautiful human being I've ever seen."

"I...I'm sorry, my girls get excited easily."  Yuuko murmured, reeling the triplets in.

"It's no problem, children tend to be pretty inquisitive about my hair." Viktor smiled kindly at the girls.

"A...are you an old man?" One girl asked, half hiding behind her mother's leg.

Viktor laughed, tears stinging the edge of his eyes. "No, I'm only 28."

"C...could we touch your hair?" Another girl asked.

"Girls!" Yuuko chided.

"It's fine. I...if you don't mind?" Viktor glanced at the girls and then to their mother.

"Viktor can get to know the girls. Yuuri, Yuuko, help me finish up the Katsudon." Minako grinned, oblivious to the heavy air that had settled on the group.

Yuuko yanked Yuuri by the arm towards the kitchen, a deepening scowl on her face. 

"Dad, can we play with Viktor?" The three girls whined in unison.

It was funny how children, while not understanding situations fully, were often the ones to sense things like this.

"Yeah, go to the living room, we'll be there in a second," Takeshi muttered, waving the girls off.

Viktor watched them disappear around the corner before Takeshi shoved him against the wall, the man's arm pressing against his throat.

"I don't know how you ended up here, but if you try any bullshit on my girls I will fucking kill you. You hear me?" Takeshi hissed, his fuming face inches from Viktor's.

"I don't hurt children."

"Tell that to the families you tore apart."

Viktor swallowed, "I won't hurt your girls."

Takeshi nodded and shoved Viktor out of the way, making his way to the living room. Viktor waited a moment before following. The girls sat on the couch, smiling expectedly.

"Ah! He's here!" The one on the furthest left screeched, jumping off the couch.

"Hi..."

"Hello." The girls peered at him like he was an alien.

"Your hair, how'd you get it?"

"My mum?" Viktor shrugged.

"Wow, natural."

"Oh, we should introduce ourselves. I'm Axel. That's Loop and this is Lutz."

Viktor's mouth fell open, "your mother named you after the jumps?"

"Yes, you know figure skating?!" Loop squealed, dashing over.

"I do."

"Can you skate?" Lutz cried, tugging on Viktor's pant leg.

"I can."

Axel swooned,"you're perfect for uncle Yuuri! Could I touch your hair?"

Viktor grinned and knelt before the three squealing girls, bending his head so they could reach.

"Oh my god, it's so silky. What's your secret?" Axel sighed.

"Conditioner. Conditioner. Conditioner. There are no short cuts, girls. Just hard work."

"Does uncle Yuuri like your hair?"

"I don't know, you'd have to ask him."

"You're his boyfriend, aren't you? You should know."

Viktor smiled and shrugged.

"What do you like about Uncle Yuuri?" Lutz asked, smiling mischievously.

"Yuuri? Well, he's very kind for starters. And I'm telling you, it's not fair. When he wakes up, he doesn't even brush his hair. He just kinda combs through it with his fingers and voila! He's got pretty cute bed head though."

The girls squealed, "you've slept in the same bed?"

Oh children, so innocent. Viktor nodded, a small blush dusting his cheeks. "He's terrible you know. If you let your guard down, he steals all the blankets!" Viktor fell back in mock pain, a hand pressed to his forehead.

Takeshi snorted, looking up from his phone."You too, huh?"

Viktor sighed,"yeah, you sound like you have a story, Nishigori."

Takeshi put his phone down, rolling his eyes. "Once, the three of us when we were little Yuuko, Yuuri and I that is. We had a sleep over and Yuuko was sleeping between us."

"Aww, that's so cute." Viktor laughed.

Takeshi shrugged, "and then Yuuri stole all the blanket. The whole thing. And he just wrapped himself up like a-"

"Burrito." Viktor finished.

"Yep. Some things never change, do they?"

"Guess, not." 

Axel slung her arms around Viktor's neck, trying to twist his head till he faced her.

"Yes?"

"Can I braid your hair?" She pleaded, her eyes wide as saucers.

"I doubt it is long enough." Viktor chuckled, "I have grown it out before though."

"Do it again," Lutz cried, slapping her hands down on either side of Viktor's face.

Viktor could only laugh at the rough treatment he was getting, but it was fine, it really was.

 

Minako tapped Yuuri's shoulder, drawing him away from his work over the stove.

"Viktor is good with kids isn't he?" Minako murmured, glancing over her shoulder.

Yuuri looked behind him to where Viktor was playing with the triplets. They were being surprisingly calm and easy to manage, Yuuko complained about them being three devils and almost never left them alone with guests. Viktor looked like he was managing just fine though.

"I guess he is." Yuuri continued chopping the onions deftly.

"I think three is the magic number." Minako laughed.

"What?"

"You've always wanted kids, haven't you Yuuri?"

Yuuri flushed,"I guess, but why-" 

"I think three is the magic number, he looks like he can handle it."

Yuuri turned, his face flushing as Viktor padded into the kitchen. Axel was perched on his shoulders, her head held high, Lutz and Loop both clutched to Viktor's shoulders as he balanced them on his hips.

"Oh my god, Viktor, are you okay?" Yuuri squeaked, rushing over to take one of the children away. 

"Oh, no, no it's fine. I volunteered."

"You volunteered to be a climbing pole for three 6-year-old rascals." Yuuri reached out and squeezed Lutz's cheek.

"It's fine, Solnyshko, really. The girls are..." Viktor's voice faded away slowly. 

Viktor felt the heat rise in his cheeks. Yuuri's sleeves were rolled up, his tie discarded on a chair, the first few buttons on his shirts undone and a slight flush on his face from working over the stove. Put simply, Viktor was blessed to have seen this image.

Yuuri twitched at the Russian pet name, and yes, he knew what it meant. Two could play at this game. Yuuri looked up at Viktor who seemed to be zoning out and looking down at...

Yuuri clicked his fingers in Viktor's face. "Oi, Vitya. My face is up here."

"S...sorry I was just..." Viktor flushed. "Looking at your...heavage."

Minako gasped, "Yuuri! Do your buttons up or Viktor's gonna pop a vein."

"What? I'm hot-"

"Damn hot!" Axel chirped. "Right, Uncle Viktor?"

Viktor nodded jerkily.

"Axel!" Yuuri whined. "I needed to take my tie off and it was hot in front of the stove."

"Yuuri," Yuuko sighed, wrapping an arm around Yuuri's shoulders. "You're an adult, so we really shouldn't be questioning your clothing choices."

Yuuri groaned, "I'm covered from head to toe except for 3 buttons on my shirt."

"Gosh, so revealing, Yuuri. Your skate costumes covered more." Minako teased.

Viktor gasped, "do you have pictures?"

"Who doesn't?" The triplets chorused.

"If Viktor sees one picture of anything I am going to kill you all!" Yuuri screeched.

"You should show Viktor your ribbons and Yuuri, do introduce him to your parents and sister while you're at it." Minako murmured in Japanese.

Yuuko, Yuuri and Takeshi tensed, Viktor glancing at Yuuri for some explanation of what was going on.

"I'll take over." Minako chided, pushing Yuuri away from the chopping board. "Go on."

Yuuri nodded, taking his apron off and draping it over a chair. 

"Put the girls down and come with me."

Viktor nodded, letting the girls down one at a time, surprisingly, they didn't complain at all. Once Viktor was free of the girls, Yuuri grabbed his hand and tugged him out of the kitchen.

"Yuuri?"

"Yeah?"

"Where are you taking me?"

"See for yourself," Yuuri murmured, opening a door and gesturing for Viktor to enter.

Viktor flicked the light switch, his eyes widening as soon as they could see. There was a glass case stuffed full of pictures, ribbons and some medals. There was a hell of a lot of blue and gold.

"Minako kept a lot of my ribbons and most of the medals were recovered from the fire."

Viktor nodded, stepping closer, a finger brushing against the class of the case. 

"You were good."

"Minako used to say I would represent the country at the Olympics one day." Yuuri smiled, a sad, bitter smile.

At one end, Yuuri seemed to be very young, 5 or 6 at most at his first time in skates. The boy was trying to smile while clinging desperately to the leg of a woman. The woman was familiar, her soft smile, the way the corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled. Viktor jerked back, it was Yuuri's mother. It had to be. They looked so similar he wondered how he hadn't realised more quickly.

"Yuuri, you didn't need to show me."

Yuuri shrugged. "Might as well."

Viktor walked to the other end of the case. It all seemed to stop abruptly, the pictures of a happy Yuuri. The last was one where he was grinning, to the point of tears, a bronze medal around his neck and his parents standing either side of him with their arms thrown around him.

"Wait, Yuuri this is..."

"NHK Trophy, 2008. Men's finals." Yuuri swallowed the lump in his throat.

"You were 16?"

"Yeah, I turned 16 while I was there. It was my first year in Seniors."

Viktor gritted his teeth, his eyes following the charred edges of the ribbon, hanging loosely off the medal.

"Let's go," he muttered, glancing back worriedly at Yuuri.

Yuuri blinked seeming to return to the room, nodding, he flicked off the lights as Viktor left the room and shutting the door, returning the room to its darkness once more. Viktor waited for Yuuri, cocking his head to a side when Yuuri walked even further down the corridor, hand pausing on another door.

"Yuuri, aren't we going back?"

"No, we have one more stop." Yuuri pushed the door open, not even bothering to wait for Viktor.

Viktor walked slowly towards the door, peeking first. He nearly stumbled back.

"Yuuri I can't."

"Come here, idiot. And shut the door behind you."

Viktor was pretty sure he was sweating. He glanced at Yuuri and then at the altar in front of him. Three pictures sat on the altar. He assumed the three to be Yuuri's mother, father and sister. Yuuri knelt down on the carpet, patting the spot beside him impatiently.

"Yuuri, I can't. This isn't-"

"It's okay, Viktor. Come here." Yuuri gave the carpet beside him a few more pats.

Viktor gave a resigned sigh, stepping cautiously into the room and closing the door behind him.

"Sit," Yuuri commanded.

Viktor sighed and sat, folding his legs beneath him like Yuuri. He let his head hang, his eyes glued to a spot on the floor.

"Mum, dad, Mari-nee-chan. This is Viktor. He's an idiot and a friend, I guess."

Viktor whipped his head up, looking at an all too entertained Yuuri.

"I'm not gonna lie because you'll probably know anyway, but I'm in charge of looking after Viktor while he's under the safeguard of the Witness Protection Program." 

Viktor stared openly at Yuuri, not really paying attention to what else Yuuri said. He might've switched to Japanese at some point and Viktor wouldn't have noticed. 

This was the closest he had been to the Yuuri for the entire week, and honestly, Viktor had gotten pretty used to being near him. The hair's breadth of space between them was an itch Viktor shouldn't scratch. Viktor watched the way the sunset light filtered through the window and danced around Yuuri's face and body, the way dust motes moved around him like stars as he spoke. 

"Viktor?"

Viktor blinked, he hadn't quite computed when Yuuri turned to look at him.

"Y...yeah?"

"Ready to go back?"

Viktor nodded, standing and offering Yuuri a hand. As they made their way towards the door, Viktor being the last to leave, paused before shutting the door.

"As long as he's under my watch, I promise to protect him with my life as best I can. It's the least I owe him." He whispered.

"Viktor, did you say something?"

"No, no, let's head back. The Katsudon should be done." Viktor grinned, shutting the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say that the response that I've gotten for this fic has been unbelievable and absolutely amazing and I just want to thank everyone who is tagging along for the ride! I'll see everyone next week, Monday as usual <3


	25. Alcohol: a Cure Among other Things

 Detroit, Present time

 

Viktor was trying very hard not to cry from how hard he was laughing. 

"Minako! Stop it, this is so embarrassing!" Yuuri grumbled, covering his face with his hands.

"So..so he went up to a bully and told him he was so ugly he wouldn't date him ever?" Viktor snickered, earning an elbow from Yuuri. 

"I swear to god, I will kill you if you don't stop laughing," Yuuri growled, reaching out and twisting Viktor's ear.

"Ow! I'm sorry, I'm trying!" Viktor laughed as tears ran down his cheeks.

The triplets cooed at the pair, Yuuko and Takeshi desperately trying to keep their children in their seats.

"Good times, good times," Minako wheezed, grinning at Yuuri.

"Ugh, I hate you all." Yuuri rolled his eyes.

Viktor reached around Yuuri's shoulders, locking him into a head lock. "Me especially," he whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear.

Yuuri whines turned into a growl. "If you don't let me go I'm gonna lock you in the custodian's closet at work."

"Kinky," Minako chuckled, taking another sip from her beer.

Yuuko and Takeshi tried to desperately to cover their children's ears.

"Actually, how did you two meet?" 

"Huh?" Yuuri and Viktor grunted simultaneously.

"At a party-" Viktor muttered

"At work." Yuuri froze.

Viktor coughed, looking at Yuuri apologetically while Minako raised her eyebrows. Viktor forgot Yuuri was supposed to be doing the talking.

"We met at a party, but I was too drunk to remember. Viktor currently works with the department as a translator." Yuuri affirmed, his fingers digging into his own legs under the table.

He hated lying to family.

"Oh, I thought Yuuko and Takeshi hadn't met you before?"

Takeshi and Yuuko froze, she was right.

"They don't work on the Nikiforov case much, so I guess the opportunity to introduce Viktor never came up."

"Or you were hiding him," Minako teased, a sparkle in her eye.

Viktor laughed, letting everyone take a deep breath. Disaster narrowly averted. Viktor looked over at Yuuri, who seemed a little shaken. Ever so gently, he reached over and grazed his fingers over Yuuri's tensed hand, gauging his reaction. Yuuri glanced at him, shooting him what was an attempt at a reassuring smile. Viktor pressed his hand over Yuuri's, letting his fingers fall between the gaps of Yuuri's. He jumped a little when Yuuri squeezed his fingers back gently.

"They're holding hands under the table!" Axel squealed.

"Axel! Get out from under the table right this moment!" Yuuko screeched. 

"It's too cute, I'm having a heart attack!"

"Lemme see!" Loop cried, trying to escape her father's grasp.

Viktor and Yuuri jumped apart, their hands shifting back onto the table where everyone could see them. Yuuri was slowly turning into a tomato, his blush growing down his neck as Viktor continued to watch him with a grin.

"So, what languages can you speak, Viktor?" Minako asked as she sipped at her beer.

"Oh, uh, Russian, Italian, French, Spanish, German some Chinese, the occasional Japanese swear word from Yuuri and English of course."

"A linguist, huh?"

"I don't swear in Japanese," Yuuri whined.

"It's the swearing you do under your breath when you're not paying attention, Solnyshko."

Yuuri stared down at the table like he was having an existential crisis.

"Uncle Viktor?!" Lutz cried, standing in her seat.

"Yes, princess?"

"We're playing Just Dance after dinner, you have to play!"

Viktor chuckled, "your wish is my command."

 

After everyone was finished digesting, the children did indeed get out the console and game. The triplets had a couple 'warm up rounds' before collapsing straight into Yuuri's lap.

"Yuuri! Yuuri! Yuuri! You're good! Play! You should vs our parents!" The girls chorused.

"Girls, please." Yuuko sighed, scooping the girls out of Yuuri's lap.

"I can't guys, I wouldn't want to disappoint you."

The girls pouted.

"I wouldn't want you to be disappointed in your parents after I beat them," Yuuri smirked.

Yuuko scoffed, "was that a challenge, Yuuri?"

"Perhaps."

"Viktor and Yuuri should vs Mum and Dad!" Axel screeched, yanking at her father's hand.

"Oh, girls. I don't think this is such a great idea," Viktor sighed, letting Lutz pull him into a standing position.

"What, are you scared, Viktor?" Takeshi grinned.

"Vitya, you better not let me down." Yuuri hissed, crossing his arms.

"Oh, Solnyshko." Viktor yanked Yuuri till their bodies were pressed together. "I'm ashamed you'd think so lowly of me. We aren't going to beat them." Viktor paused and smirked. "We're going to crush them."

"Oh, this is so on!" Yuuko growled, yanking her husband closer.

"FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!" The triplets screamed, waving banners they seemed to have pulled out of thin air.

"Okay, here are the rules." Minako waved the two couples over.

"We flip a coin, whoever wins gets to go first. You can choose whatever duet song you want. I'll be judging on top of the scores that the game gives us."

The four adults (turned children) nodded. They flipped the coin, it was Yuuko and Takeshi going first. While they were choosing a song Minako dashed to the kitchen to get some popcorn, this was going to be good. By the time she came back they had the game up and ready to go.

"Cake By the Ocean is Team Nishigori's song of choice. Please, a round of applause for the first team!" Axel roared.

 

Viktor and Yuuri watched on silently, their serious expressions matching those of trained competitors. Takeshi and Yuuko were good as expected, their moves were measured and practiced as one would expect of seasoned partners. 

 

As they sat back down, huffing in exertion, Yuuri and Viktor whispered, gesturing fiercely. 

"Make some noise for the second team, The Uncles."

Viktor scoffed, "the uncles, huh?"

"Let's show 'em who's boss, Viktor."

"What's your song choice?" Loop questioned.

"Die Young, by Kesha," Yuuri mumbled as he and Viktor took centre stage.

"Ooh, that's a classic."

"Interesting song choice," Minako smirked.

"Go Viktor!" Axel squealed.

 

As the first few beats of the song faded in, it was already clear who was going to win. The two men were extraordinarily in sync, every move like they were made to dance together. They were just throwing out perfect move after perfect move like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Yuuko sighed into her husband's shoulder. "And here I had been hoping that Viktor wouldn't be a professional dancer or something like Yuuri."

"We walked right into that trap, didn't we? I mean, look at him. He's all muscle and grace."

Yuuko nodded.

"Well, we know who won already. It's a perfect score," Minako yelled over the music.

Viktor and Yuuri pulled through the last few seconds of the song, both huffing and still grinning their faces off.

"This is the funnest thing I've done in weeks!" Viktor screamed, his heart-shaped smile infectious.

"Do a Viktuuri pose! You geddit? Viktuuri!" The triplets squealed, chanting "Viktuuri" over and over again.

"Yuuri, let's do an Axel Lift," Viktor yelled.

"You're kidding me?!"

"Not. Just trust me, I've got you."

Yuuri nodded, taking a step back away from Viktor. He leapt forwards, making a small jump into Viktor's hands. Everyone in the room held their breath as Viktor lifted Yuuri into the air, holding him with surprising grace and strength. 

The pair turned slowly, Yuuri holding a single arm towards the sky and the other pressed against his stomach where Viktor was holding him up. Viktor's eyes, filled with a sparkle, remained on Yuuri. 

Everyone remained perfectly silent till they reached the other end of the room, Viktor gently bringing Yuuri back down to Earth. For a moment, the two stood close their bodies still pressed together, breathing heavily. They broke apart as the twins started cheering.

"Viktor! Pick me up!" Axel squealed, opening her arms and screaming as Viktor scooped her off the ground.

"Adopt me, please!" Axel whined.

"Oh, princess, I couldn't that. It would be terrible for your parents who've done such a good job of raising you."

"Obviously not good enough," Yuuko grumbled as she peeled Axel away from Viktor.

 

The family was entertained with round upon round of Just Dance until the girls eventually napped from exhaustion. Their parents carried them to Minako's bedroom where they could sleep in peace while the adults had their fun.

"Yuuri..." Minako whispered.

"Yes?" Yuuri grumbled, rolling his eyes. Whatever she wanted, it usually wasn't good news.

"Why don't you show us your special dance again?" Minako grinned, earning an expectant smile from Yuuko.

"Oh my god, we do this every time, please." Yuuri took a swig from the beer in his hand, he'd need the liquid courage.

"What's this?" Viktor chirped.

"Yuuri can dance in high heels. Correction, he can dance well in high heels. Do Wiggle by Jason Derulo, that one's always a crowd pleaser."

"I have to ask, Yuuri, where'd you learn to?"

"Well, there was a community fundraiser and Minako wanted to do something way over the top so she taught me."

Viktor grinned, "let's have a dance off."

"In heels?"

"Yes."

"You can dance in heels?" Yuuri asked incredulously.

"Yes, I can. Why do you sound so surprised? You're the one who can pole dance."

Takeshi's jaw fell open. "Woah woah woah woah woah. Take a step back there! Yuuri, you can pole dance?" Takeshi howled, slapping his hands against his legs.

Yuuri groaned and buried his beet red face in his hands.

"Whoops. Were they not meant to know?"

"I hate you, Viktor," Yuuri hissed.

"If I had a pole I'd get you to demonstrate, but a nice dance will just have to do," Minako smirked.

Yuuri stood and sighed, "I am not dancing, I hate you all."

All the adults sighed and pouted, Viktor included, who already had his hands on a pair of heels courtesy of Minako. 

"Yuuri, solnyshko, please!" Viktor whined, "or are you just afraid I'll one-up you?" Viktor smirked knowingly, he knew that nothing got Yuuri going like a good old competition.

Yuuri sat down and pulled the heels on. "Oh, please, Vitya you don't actually think-"

"You've already put the heels on, you can't not dance now." Viktor grinned.

"Did you just...Fine." Yuuri strode over to Minako's laptop, making his selection of song off youtube.

The speakers hummed to life.

"Woah, I can't stand it,

'cause you know what to do with that big fat butt.

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle"

Yuuri was a performer by nature, that was clear enough from the sultry looks he threw into his audience. It was like the Yuuri he knew so well just disappeared and was replaced by an unstoppable force of seduction. Viktor swore to god he was losing a decade off of his life every time Yuuri rolled those delicious hips and blew him a kiss.

"Viktor darling, you're drooling."

"I don't care," Viktor mumbled, wiping the drool from his face absently.

"Gorgeous when he's in his element isn't he?"

"What I would pay for him to kill me with those thighs, I mean, look at them! He could probably crush a watermelon with those powerhouses-"

"Viktor," Yuuri snorted, patting the dazed Russian's head gently.

"Did I say all that out loud?" Viktor hadn't even noticed when Yuuri finished.

"Yes, yes you did."

Viktor shrugged, "honesty is the best policy."

"Oh, you're insufferable." Yuuri pulled his glasses off, setting them aside as he wiped his face with his shirt and combed his hair back.

Viktor stared and flushed. "Y...Yuuri! Would you mind helping me up? I've fallen so hard for you I think I've forgotten how to stand." Viktor grinned from ear to ear, extending his hand towards Yuuri.

Yuuri groaned and took his hand. Viktor yanked Yuuri down, forcing him to steady himself on Viktor's shoulders.

"It really is a shame that you forgot our first dance together," he whispered.

Yuuri shuddered visibly, leaning back and helping pull Viktor to his feet. Viktor grinned, striding away with a sway in his hips as he made his way over to the laptop. Viktor tapped play and swaggered back over to where Yuuri sat. He placed two firm hands on Yuuri's thighs, trailing them down to his knees as the song started.

"Holy shit, I'm so glad the kids are asleep," Takeshi hissed to his wife.

Viktor flicked his hair back, body doing unforgivable things as he turned away and dipped down between Yuuri's legs. 

"I'm that flight that you get on, international."

Viktor smirked and continued mouthing the lyrics.

"First class seat on my lap girl, riding comfortable."

Yuuko's mouth fell open. This would definitely be a lap dance if it weren't for the one inch of air between Viktor and Yuuri which honestly, was not doing anything to stop the room from heating up.

Viktor stepped back, mouthing every word of the song as he went. "all I really need to understand is when," a roll of his hips, "you talk dirty to me." He winked, spun and dropped to the ground, his hands trailing down his sides as he went. It was clear to see, there was only one audience for this dance. Yuuri smiled smugly, an amused twinkle in his eyes as he continued sipping at his beer. Viktor struck his final pose, his hands wound loosely around him as if holding a lover, his half-lidded eyes glazed over.

Yuuri was the only one who clapped, shaking everyone else out of their reverie to join in.

"Geez, Viktor, you're better than me in heels," Minako whined.

"Were you a stripper or something in a previous life?" Takeshi snickered.

"I was, how'd you know?" Viktor replied rather nonchalantly as he collapsed onto the couch beside Yuuri, winding an arm around the man's shoulders casually.

Everyone stared blankly.

"Guys, I was joking, how could I possibly know what I did in a previous life?" Viktor giggled.

Yuuri turned and eyed Viktor knowingly.

 

* * *

  

Soon enough it was time to head home, everyone was exhausted. Takeshi and Yuuko tucked the triplets into the backseat of their car, waving off Viktor and Yuuri who were being driven home by Minako.

Yuuko glanced behind her at the three girls snoring away in the backseat.

"There's something you should know, Takeshi."

Her husband sighed, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. "Are you pregnant?"

"No, idiot!" She smacked him on the shoulder. 

"Ow, okay, what is it then?"

"I...Yuuri didn't want to tell anyone, but he and Viktor have a history."

"They slept together?"

"Yeah, how'd you know? The story about them meeting at a party and Yuuri being too hammered to remember was true."

"That's not particularly surprising," Takeshi murmured, flicking the indicators on as they waited at a set of traffic lights.

"It isn't?"

"No, I thought I saw something in the way they looked at each other."

"So it's not just me? The puppy dog eyes?" Yuuko laughed.

"No, it's not even that. We could brush that off as acting, but there's something in the way they look at each other..."

"Desire?"

"Yes, but there's more to it than that. I don't know how to explain it. It's like they know what they've signed up for, like they know what they want and they're oddly comfortable with it."

Yuuko nodded.

"Those two are weird," Takeshi grumbled.

"Pretty sure Yuuri doesn't even know it himself," Yuuko sighed.

"Maybe he's better off that way."

Yuuko nodded. "Probably."

 

* * *

 

Yuuri thanked Minako briefly for dropping them off before dragging Viktor back to the house. It was late and Phichit was probably already asleep so they were quiet as they entered. Viktor's demeanour had changed the moment they were left to themselves, his cheery personality fading until all that was left was an empty shell. Viktor padded over to the cupboard and pulled out the half empty bottle of vodka and lifted the bottle to his lips.

"Viktor, we need to talk."

Viktor paused, scoffed and lifted the bottle, ready to take another sip.

Yuuri snatched the bottle from his fingers and slammed it down on the table as he sat down. "Seriously."

Viktor glared at him with a confusing mix of anger and terror that Yuuri had never seen in his life.

"We should talk, says Mr I've Been Avoiding You For A Week," Viktor sneered, making grabby-hands at the bottle.

"I have not been avoiding you." Yuuri pushed the bottle out of the man's reach.

"Fuck, off," Viktor hissed. "You have."

"I have not-"

"When was the last time we had an actual conversation that lasted longer than three minutes," Viktor deadpanned, giving up on the Vodka.

"Uh..."

"Exactly."

"I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay. I get it," Viktor sighed, sitting down opposite Yuuri.

"I'm sorry."

"Would you please give me the Vodka as part of your apology?"

"No."

"The one time I actually need and drink and I can't even-"

"Viktor."

"A man needs his drinking time, you know everyone has things they want to forget. Sometimes you just have to get black out drunk, trust me-"

"Viktor..."

"It makes me feel better and I just want a freaking drink. How bad could it possibly be? I won't-"

"Viktor, you're ranting."

Viktor buried his hands in his face and let out a long sigh. "It helps me forget."

"Forget what?"

"That's a very hard question to answer, Detective." 

There's something cold and bitter about Viktor's tone that makes a lump form in Yuuri's throat. Like how he hadn't uttered Yuuri's name since they left Minako's house and how he just said 'Detective'.

Yuuri swallowed, "you have to start somewhere. Tell me what's wrong."

"Can I at least have one more sip before I say anything? Trust me, you might need some too."

Yuuri shrugged and passed the bottle over, prying it from the man's hands once his sip was over and taking a good chug himself.

"So, your dad is a cop?"

"He's not my dad," Viktor spat, slumping in his chair until he was staring at the ceiling. 

"O...okay."

"I'm joking, he's the bastard who conceived me."

Yuuri nodded. He was really beginning to wonder if he would find anything out tonight.

"I was eight years old when my mother bailed on us. In hindsight, I probably should've hated her for it, but I could never blame her for wanting to escape the living hell she was trapped in."

Yuuri remained frozen in place, unsure of how he should react. "I...I see."

Viktor shrugged and gave me a small smile. "You said you wanted to know, right?"

Yuuri nodded, glancing at the tempting bottle of Vodka next to him. 

"I was home alone after school on a Friday, it was just like any other day really. Dad was probably out drinking and gambling." Viktor muttered.

Yuuri picked up the vodka again and took another long sip, feeling the burning liquid start to warm his body.

 

* * *

 

 Detroit 1997

 

At the sound of a car crunching up the driveway, Viktor dropped his half-done homework on the ground and scrambled over to the door, bouncing from foot to foot in excitement.

"Mama!" He squealed as the door unlocked to reveal his flustered mother.

"Vitya. Vitya, listen to me." She commanded, dropping to her knees to hold the child's shoulders.

"M...mama?"

"I need you to get your backpack and put a few things in there. Just your favourite stuff toy and some clothes okay?"

"O...okay. Mama, where are we going?"

"We're going on a road trip, please, just do as I say darling."

"Mama, where are we going?" Viktor asked more urgently as his mother ushered him to his room.

"Cleveland, baby. Hurry, just the essentials, okay?" She rushed out of the room leaving him to pack by himself.

Viktor looked around, utterly confused by what he was supposed to label as essential. He grabbed his backpack and stuffed his poodle stuff toy in first and then his favourite hoodie and a few t-shirts and jeans. He was so excited he was vibrating on the spot. The sound of a car door slamming shut captured Viktor's attention as his mother came barrelling into his room. 

"Mama, papa is ho-"

"Viktor, I need you to listen to me."

Viktor nodded.

"Oi! Where the fuck is my dinner?!" His father roared, accompanied by the sound of plates crashing to the ground.

His mother ushered him to the wardrobe, pushing him between the layers of clothing hung up.

"M...mama?" Viktor squeaked.

"We're gonna play a game Viktor, and I know you can play it well. You're gonna stay here and hide till I come and find you, okay? Promise me you won't move?"

"Yes, mama."

"I love you," she whispered, shutting the doors on him.

His father staggered into the room a moment later, an empty beer bottle still clutched in his hand.

"You look like you're packing to go somewhere," he mumbled, leaning against the wall.

"Oh, we were jus-"

"Where the fuck do you think you can run to, Anna?"

Viktor's mother stumbled back till the back of her knees connected with her son's bed.

"You were gonna take Viktor with you, huh?! Who the fuck do you think you are taking my son away from me? Where is he?" The man boomed, grabbing his wife's hair and lifting her till her feet were off the ground.

"H...he's at a friend's," she whimpered, tears streaming down her face. "P...please, put me down."

"Don't lie to me!" He barked, letting her drop to the ground before dragging her till she was backed against the wall.

"S...stop!" She howled, struggling as her eyes drifted to the cupboard.

Shakily she lifted a finger to her lip, a gesture requesting silence. Viktor complied, clamping his hand over his mouth as he willed the sobs to stop.

His father dragged his mother out of the room, her screams and struggles unrelenting. Eventually silence came over the house. Viktor slipped from the cupboard, breaking his promise. He caught his mother drifting in the hallway, pulling her shoes on and keys dangling from a finger.

"Mama?"

"Oh, Vitya, darling." She murmured, dropping to her knees and cupping his small face in her hands.

"Mama, where are you going?"

"To the grocery store." She winced, a tear trailing from her bruised eye.

"Are we still going to Cleveland?"

"No, baby."

"Why not? Is it because I broke my promise? I'm sorry-"

"No, baby, it's not your fault. We can go another time. Just, not this time."

"O...okay."

She ran gentle circles on his cheek with her thumb, trying to smile despite the cuts in her lip. "Listen to papa while I'm gone."

Viktor nodded. 

"Papa will take good care of you."

He watched as his mother left and then walked silently back to his room and shut himself in the cupboard. 

 

* * *

  

Present Time

 

"I stayed there for hours you know. Overnight, all day the next day. I forgot to eat. Maybe I hoped she'd come back if I waited for her," Viktor sighed.

"You never saw her again?"

"I did, after 5 years."

Yuuri stared down at his hands wrung together in his lap, unable to look up at his serious companion.  

"Mum probably figured I'd be safe since dad never laid a hand on me. I can't blame her for that."

Yuuri's head whipped up. "He hurt you?"

Viktor laughed bitterly. "I think that would be a gross understatement."

"Y...your dad was convicted?"

"I don't actually know, but seeing as he is still a cop, probably not."

"You didn't-"

"I ran away from home, that was the only way I got out."

Yuuri leaned over the table and held his hands over his mouth. "How many years?" He asked, his voice muffled by his hands.

"Five years." Viktor winced.

Yuuri remained silent for a while. "I'm sorry I brought it up."

"It's okay. I'd like to think I got over it a while ago, but seeing my dad just set me off."

"We can stop talking, if you're not comfortable." Yuuri murmured, reaching out to touch his shoulder, a hesitant hand held out between them.

Viktor leaned closer and pressed his cheek to Yuuri's unflinching hand.

"You should at least hear the super cool story of how I travelled interstate by myself at 13 years old with only the clothes on my back and $50 in my pocket."

"Viktor," Yuuri sighed as he reached for the vodka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viktor poor baby...
> 
> Things have been getting really hectic for me lately. I've managed to keep up so far, but I'm honestly not sure if I'll be able to keep up the regular updates right through my exams. I have a major assessment tomorrow and another one just under two weeks after that, but I won't stop fighting!
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has supported this fic whether that be leaving a comment or kudos or bookmarking or subscribing, just thank you for it all.
> 
> Until next time, I hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	26. Hit the Ground Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter:  
> "I ran away from home, that was the only way I got out."
> 
> Yuuri leaned over the table and held his hands over his mouth. "How many years?" He asked, his voice muffled by his hands.
> 
> "Five years." Viktor winced.
> 
> Yuuri remained silent for a while. "I'm sorry I brought it up."
> 
> "It's okay. I'd like to think I got over it a while ago, but seeing my dad just set me off."
> 
> "We can stop talking, if you're not comfortable." Yuuri murmured, reaching out to touch his shoulder, a hesitant hand held out between them.
> 
> Viktor leaned closer and pressed his cheek to Yuuri's unflinching hand.
> 
> "You should at least hear the super cool story of how I travelled interstate by myself at 13 years old with only the clothes on my back and $50 in my pocket."
> 
> "Viktor," Yuuri sighed as he reached for the vodka.

 

Detroit 2002

 

Viktor shoved his skates into his sports bag, pulling his uniform off the hook he folded it meticulously, smoothing out the creases before tucking it back into his bag.

"Oi, champ," a brown haired man called, sticking his head into the change room.

"Yeah?" Viktor asked, bending down to pick up his employee badge.

"That was a beautiful performance tonight. 20 out of ten, as usual."

"Pfft, it was nothing." Viktor laughed, waving the older boy off as he left the change rooms.

"Oh yeah, the boss wanted to see you. Pay day."

Viktor whooped, gathering his long locks into a messy bun as he continued down the empty corridor.

"I'll see you next week then!" Viktor waved, entering the administration office of the rink.

"Viktor! That was a delightful performance tonight, you looked absolutely stunning!" The older woman squealed, wrapping him in a bear hug.

"T...thanks," he muttered, blushing a little.

"You've a lot of talent for a thirteen-year-old, Viktor."

Viktor glanced down at his feet, thinking to himself, "wasted talent, eh?"

After shuffling around in her desk the woman pulled out a small wad of cash.

"Here's your usual 400, split into the smaller notes like you like it." She muttered, counting the bills deftly.

He accepted the cash humbly, tucking it into his bag.

"I'll see you Monday then?" She asked, smiling warmly at the boy.

"Yeah."

"Your monthly exhibition skates really are drawing crowds you know, I should give you a raise...consider it done!" She laughed, slapping another 50 dollar bill into Viktor's hand, pushing his fingers closed around the note.

"I..."

"Don't worry about it, Viktor." The woman smiled, reaching out to pat his head.

"T...thanks, Lydia." He muttered, shoving the bill into the back pocket of his track pants.

He took the opportunity to excuse himself and head home, zipping his jacket closed and pulling the hood over his head as he walked out into the frosty winter night. 

 

Viktor skipped up the steps of the apartment block, avoiding a few kids playing on the steps, waving at the kids and whistling a quiet tune as he went. He dug his keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door deftly he pushed the door open as gently as possible, cringing as it gave out a little creak. He tiptoed in the corridor, shrugging off his coat and tossing it onto a hook by the door. He peered down the hallway and froze, cursing when he glanced the light pouring out the kitchen. Treading lightly, Viktor moved cautiously towards his room, the floor boards to avoid, burnt into his memory. 

"Viktor?" A deep voice called out, every muscle in Viktor's body tensing.

Viktor turned, forcing his lips into a smile, "Dad? Didn't think you'd still be up."

"Where's the money?" The man grunted, stepping towards the boy.

Viktor clutched his bag closer to his side, tugging open the zip and digging around for a second. He looked up for a second at the man, looking down he pushed a single note out of the wad, neatening the other notes before pulling the wad out.

"Here," Viktor muttered, holding out the money shakily.

The man counted the money, the numbers coming off slurred on his tongue.

"I thought you got a raise to 400, not 350 anymore." The man grumbled, raising his icy blue eyes to glare at the teenager. 

"N...no."

"Give me your bag."

"No." Viktor whimpered, clutching his bag closer.

The man stormed closer, standing over the child and yanking the bag from his grip. He rustled through the bag meticulously, pulling out the loose fifty dollar note.

"What the hell's this then?" He hissed, waving the note around before shoving it into the front pocket of his police uniform. 

"What the hell am I supposed to buy food with? You're spending everything on fucking booze!" Viktor hissed, yanking his bag back out his father's hand, brushing past as he headed to his room. 

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" The man slurred, grabbing Viktor by the wrist and yanking him back.

"Let me go! Fuck!" Viktor hissed, scratching at the death hold on his wrist and dropping his bag in his struggle.

"You cheating faggot!" The man roared, grabbing a handful of Viktor's hair and dragging the screaming boy down the corridor, "cursed hair, just like your mother."

"Let me-" Viktor shrieked, cut off by a solid kick to his stomach, the sound of his choked cries filling the house.  

 

It felt like an eternity, every moment agonising as Viktor pressed his bruised cheek into the cool kitchen tiles. His focus slowly turned black over the vision of his shaking fists.

 

Viktor shifted, his eyes flickering open to a white ceiling he was sure he'd never seen before. An incessant beeping slowly entered his muddled mind, he turned, his eyes widening as the sound became more piercing by the second. It felt like someone had taken a jackhammer to his brain. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. A nurse dashed into the room, silencing the monitor.

She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down into the bed, "please, rest. You have a broken rib. We'll call your father."

Viktor's eyes widened, his desperate gasps for air becoming more painful with every passing moment.

"I'm going to get the doctor. I'll be right back," the woman murmured calmly, observing the boy coolly.

The moment the nurse left the room Viktor swung his legs out of the bed, ripping the blood pressure cuff off his arm. He groaned, hanging his head over his lap as waves of dizziness shook him. He blinked, looking up the moment the dizziness had subsided. 

 

Every cell in his body screamed at him, screamed at him to run. Run somewhere, anywhere but here. Viktor glanced at the table beside his bed, his clothes, packed into a clear plastic bag, had been dumped on it.

Viktor grabbed the bag, tearing it open, pulled out his hoodie and zipped it on over the hospital shirt. He kicked the loose pants off, folding the sterile green fabric and placing it on top of the bed. He replaced the hospital pants with his trackies and pulled his hoodie on over the similarly green hospital shirt.

He padded to the door, peering into the bustling corridor of the hospital as he timed his escape. Taking the moment another patient was wheeled into the corridor as a distraction he ducked out, pulling his hood over his head as he stuck close to the wall.

Viktor didn't even bother to turn when the alarmed calls of nurses filled the corridor behind him. Once Viktor had escaped from the hospital, he walked away with no direction in particular.

 

 After what felt like an eternity of wandering Viktor stopped, suddenly very aware that he was freezing cold and wandering through the city in the middle of the night for no reason. He had found a public bathroom to hole up in for a few minutes. He glanced at his own reflection in the mirror, reeling at the sight of his own face and the blue bruises forming around his eyes.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, letting out a frustrated sigh. Tilting his head he pulled a smooth, plastic rectangle out of his pocket. His performance makeup, how had he forgotten? He immediately started working on his face, making sure to cover everything he could.

After a while, he glanced down at his watch. 

"Shit, it's midnight already," Viktor hissed, pulling his hoodie closer around his shaking frame.

He left the bathroom in a hurry.

"Oi, kid!" A man called, causing Viktor to freeze on the spot.

He turned, "yes?" he replied, trying to act as casually as possible.

"Are you here for the bus to Cleveland?"

Viktor blinked, squinting past the man into the parking lot where a Greyhound bus was parked. 

"Cleveland?"

"Yeah," the man replied, raising an eyebrow.

Viktor paused for a moment, a small smile forming on his lips, "Yeah, that's what I'm here for." 

"That's 40 dollars." The driver called, turning and walking towards the bus.

Viktor patted his back pocket, the extra bill Lydia had given him was still there.

"Thank the world for Lydia," Viktor muttered under his breath as he smoothed the crinkles out of the note.

 

Five hours later Viktor awoke to the same, tubby bus driver shaking him awake.

"Kid, this is the end of the line," he grumbled, straightening himself.

"Ugh..." Viktor groaned, stretching and immediately regretting the decision as pain shot through his side.

"How old are you?" The man asked, watching as Viktor hissed in pain.

"Old enough," Viktor sighed, pulling himself out of his seat and shuffling away from the worried looking driver.

Viktor hopped off the bus, walking confidently towards the bus terminal. As he glanced around his expression slowly became graver. He'd never left Detroit before. Viktor sighed, coming this far, what had he been hoping to achieve? He knew the area his mother lived in, he just needed to get there. He shook his pocket, the jingle of change reassuring him. Ten bucks would get him where he needed, right?

 

Viktor stepped off the bus, the soft light of the rising sun bathing the buildings in a warm light. He glanced around, a normal convenience store, a normal cafe that was still closed in the early hours of the morning seemed to stand out the most from the rest of the shopping complex. He shuffled over to the convenience store, pressing his face against the glass, his stomach growling at the array of treats lined up on the shelves. Viktor sighed, digging into his pocket to pull out the last few coins he had.

"Anna?" A high pitched voice called, causing Viktor to whip around.

"Uh..." He muttered, staring at a little old lady who seemed to be staring at him.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry, you looked so much like Anna with that hair."

Viktor stared, what were the chances? "Uh, yeah that's my mum."

"Oh...I haven't seen her in ages. Do tell her I miss her." The woman murmured, pursing her lips.

"Well, I was...I lost her address. Do you think you could give it to me?" Viktor asked, staring at his feet.

"You aren't from around here, are you? I was so sure she hadn't had any children at home," the woman watched him for a second, "take the 3rd right from here, number 68. If she hasn't moved, she should still be living there." The woman pointed off down the street.

"Thank you so much!" Viktor chirped, grinning at the woman as he walked in the direction she had pointed, "I'll tell mum you said hi."

Viktor strode down the street with a skip in his step, a small smile on his face. He turned on the third street, checking the numbers, 62, 64, 66, 68. Viktor pushed the front gate open. The house was shy but bright, the white picket fence standing perky above the bright green grass of the neatly trimmed lawn. Viktor stepped up to the door, pressing the door bell.

Wait. He hadn't decided what to say. What was he supposed to say, just turning up after five whole years? Surprise???

Viktor, flinched as the door swung open, coming face to face with a grumpy looking man. The man raised his piercing green eyes to glare at the boy.

"Hi, how can I help you?" He sighed, adjusting his tie which was hanging untied around his shoulder.

"Uhhhh..."

"Hello?"

"S...sorry, I think I have the wrong address..." Viktor muttered, ducking his head in embarrassment, turning to escape the situation.

"Darling, who's at the door?" A familiar voice called from inside, the sound of footsteps padding closer as Viktor turned.

Viktor stared. Memories, of course, were never enough. He watched as a look of confusion, then surprise, then happiness ran across his mother's face.

"Hi, mom. Surprise, I guess?" Viktor offered, a grin spreading across his face.

"V...Viktor?" His mom stuttered, mouth falling open.

"No, I'm obviously Brad Pitt." 

"You idiot, come here and give your mum a hug," She sobbed, tears forming in her eyes as she wrapped the boy in a hug.

"It's nice to see you mom," Viktor choked as he buried his face into his mothers soft silver locks, breathing in the comforting scent. Five years hadn't been a long time after all.

After a few moments, the mother and son separated, Anna wiping at her eyes in an attempt to collect herself.

"Viktor, this is my husband. Andrei Plisetsky."

"Ah, hi. Nice to meet you. Sorry about before," Viktor sighed, smiling apologetically at the man.

"What's all this noise about?" A voice grumbled as a much older man shuffled out from inside the house, looking a little ruffled.

"Ah, Kolya. This is my son, Viktor."

Viktor smiled awkwardly as the old man looked him up and down.

"Viktor this is Andrei's father, Nikolai Plisetsky."

He could see the resemblance between the two men, although Andrei was much less stocky than Nikolai, the frame of his body and limbs seeming much more slender.

 

She was quick to invite Viktor in and sit him down at the table, telling him he could stay share the guest bedroom with Nikolai.

"You're to cause absolutely no trouble for Kolya while we're at work, understood?"

Viktor grinned.

"Don't smile like that, it just gives me a bad feeling."

"But mama I'm always such a good boy!" Viktor pouted.

"My little devil," she cooed, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.

Andrei tapped a finger on Anna's shoulder, a passive look on his face.

"Sorry, we're going to be late." Anna smiled apologetically.

"It's fine, we can always catch up later."

Anna nodded, scooped her bag off the table and grabbed Andrei's arm before rushing out of the house.

"Always in a goddamn hurry," the elder Plisetsky grunts, rolling his eyes.

 

Viktor quickly realises that Nikolai is sometimes a little rough around the edges, but he means well. As the days pass Viktor enjoys dinner at a dinner table surrounded by family. He laughs and smiles more than he has in a long time. He knows that before long he can stop using makeup to cover his fading bruises. It's borscht for dinner tonight, again. Viktor doesn't mind, but he does mind the stove, plates filling his arms. He's good at balancing plates, he loved pretending to be a chef as a child.

"Dinner is served!" He crowed.

He smiled over the table like a king over his domain as he laid plates out in front of each person.

"Oh Viktor, you're too much," Anna laughed.

"You know you love my drama." Viktor winks and grins as he seats himself beside his mother.

The edges of Andrei's mouth twitch upwards and Nikolai's lips curl into a snarl. Viktor is pretty sure they're smiling (like 80%...maybe 70% sure).

 

* * *

 

Later that week,

 

Viktor strode home with a bounce in his step. He'd gone to the local ice rink today as a treat from his mother instead of staying at home bored all day. She insisted that he enjoy his time here a little, but honestly if he had to say, aside from his fractured rib he'd been having the time of his life. He hadn't really skated because it was too much of a pain.

Andrei had been unnervingly quiet, almost as cold an ice cube, but as the first few days came to a close he seemed to warm up a little to Viktor. Viktor thought that perhaps he'd hated him, but it turns out that he just wasn't good with new people. It also turned out that the man was well versed in figure skating, another thing they'd talk about when the silence just got too awkward. 

 

Viktor smiled sadly as he walked up to the front door, twirling the key in his hand. How long could this last? The late nights spent curled up on the couch watching recordings of international competitions, early mornings plagued by spilt coffee because of all the goddamn rush those two were always in. Viktor unlocked the door and stepped into the house, kicking his shoes off and tucking them onto their space on the shoe rack. He passed through the living room to greet the elder Plisetsky who spared him a glance and a grunt as the wizened man pored over his newspaper crossword. 

 

Viktor walked into the kitchen, freezing the moment he crossed the threshold and his feet touched the cool tiles.

"Ah, mum, Andrei, you're home early." Viktor smiled, tilting his head to a side as he made a beeline for the fridge. 

Andrei didn't seem to react at all, not bothering to turn away from the dishes in front of him as he continued to clean autonomously. Likewise, his mother remained silent. Viktor swallowed, did something happen?

"Mum? Is something wrong?" He asked, resting a hand on the fridge.

"Viktor. Is there anything you want to tell me?" She asked, her voice barely audible over the clinking of dishes.

Viktor's eyes widened, "N...no." He stuttered out.

She let out a sigh and pulled her hands together in her lap.

"Today at work we got a call from the police." She paused, looking Viktor in the eye. "They asked me if I'd seen you around. Your father reported you missing."

Viktor put the milk carton, that he'd retrieved from the fridge, down on the bench as gently as his shaking hands could manage. Well, shit.

"A week ago you were hospitalised after a fight. When you woke up you disappeared. Viktor, you didn't ask your dad to come visit me did you?" 

Her saddened expression said she already knew the answer well enough. Andrei paused in his labour for a moment, turning the taps off and wiping his hands on the dishcloth.

"The first night you were here, I thought I might've been imagining things, but when you took the trash out you used the opportunity to dispose of your hospital gown." He said. His tone even, but for once, kind.

"Viktor I want you to tell us the truth." His mother implored.

"Which truth?" Viktor echoed inside his head.

"We want to help you," Andrei added.

Viktor gave a strained smile, "yeah, I got into a pretty nasty fight." He laughed nervously. "I obviously was not the better fighter."

"Viktor, you don't have to lie to us."

Viktor backed away from his mother till his back was pressed against the wall. He hadn't actually considered that his dad would report him missing. He let his back slide down the wall, coming to a stop when his body was curled fully on the ground.

"Vitya, Vitya darling please talking to me. Please don't cry, darling," his mother cooed, her fingers running through his hair.

"I...I'm not crying." He hiccuped.

"Please, tell me what's going on."

Viktor continued sobbing. 

"You didn't ask your father to come visit, did you?"

Viktor shook his head. "I ran."

"From your father?" She asked, holding his at an arm's length.

Viktor directed his gaze down to the floor, not looking his mother in the eye as her thumb swiped over his cheek. He knew his concealer wasn't water proof, let alone able to deal with the waterfalls that his cheeks had become.

"Your makeup is good, I didn't even notice." She chewed at her bottom lip.

"I learnt from the best," Viktor laughed bitterly, dropping his head in defeat.

"Viktor."

"Yes?"

"Did your father do this?"

Viktor's silence spoke volumes for him.

"I should never have left you there," she choked, tears falling freely down her face now. "I shouldn't have made excuses for my own cowardice!"

"Please, mom, don't blame yourself," Viktor sobbed, pulling his mother into a hug.

She pushed him away and stood. "It is my fault."

"Mom, please," Viktor whimpered, reaching for his mother.

"Nikolai, could you do me a favour?"

The older man grumbled his assent.

"Take Vitya to the hospital and get him checked out. I have some business to take care of."

"Ma-"

"I'll talk to you later."

Viktor isn't quite sure how, but somewhere in the space of ten minutes, Nikolai had managed to get him into the car. The older man leaned over him and did up his seatbelt.

"You doing alright?"

"I guess," Viktor croaked.

"A broken rib huh? Must've been hard to hide."

Viktor nodded.

"You're a brave boy, Viktor."

Viktor scoffed,"I'm not brave, don't patronize me."

"It's okay to be afraid." The old man offered a hand.

"I'm not 5 years old," Viktor muttered as he pressed his palm into Nikolai's reassuring hands.

"Everything is going to be alright. I know it."  

 

* * *

 

Viktor and Nikolai returned at around 8 o'clock that night. Most of the lights in the house had been turned off save for the kitchen. Nikolai immediately crawled into his usual spot on the couch and got his crossword out.

"Viktor?" Andrei called from the kitchen.

"Yeah?" Viktor paced into the kitchen, his eyes going to the vodka bottle in the centre of the table.

"Can we talk, please?"

Viktor nodded and pulled a seat out.

"Where's mum?"

"She decided to turn in early."

"Ah, okay." Viktor twiddled his thumbs in his lap. The intense emotions of the afternoon had since worn off, leaving only a feeling of emotional exhaustion.

"Viktor, how?..." Andrei paused as if putting careful consideration into his words.

"How?"

"How would you like to stay here?"

Viktor his head to a side, not quite understanding. "Here?"

"With your mother and I?"

"You want me to live here, in this house?" Viktor gestured around himself in disbelief.

"Yes."

"Yes?" Viktor squeaked, standing up on the spot.

"Yes."

"And you're totally okay with this?"

Andrei's smile softened. "Why wouldn't I be? You're as much family to Anna as you are to my father and me."

Viktor burst into tears and asked, "you've only known me for just over a week. What could you possibly know about me?"

"You're a good kid, that's about as much as I have figured out in a week and I think that's all I need right now."

"Thank you," Viktor sniffled, "thank you so much."

 

* * *

 

 Present time, Detroit 

 

Yuuri cupped a hand over his mouth, a look of complete shock in his eyes.

"Yuuri? Are you okay?"

"Viktor, you said you worked at an ice rink in Detroit around 2002."

"Yeah, I did, why?"

"Because both of us are idiots." Yuuri sighed.

"Yuuri, you're not making any sense."

"It's ironic that neither of us remembered the first time we actually met," Yuuri scoffed, a small smile on his lips.

"What are you sayi-"

"When I was around 8 my mum used to take me to this rink in Detroit once a month to see someone skate. I forgot until now, there are so many things I've forgotten. You know, I was a massive fan. I was inconsolable when I heard that he wasn't going to skate anymore." Yuuri smirked, leaning over the table.

"You're joking."

"I'm not. I loved that long silver hair, I thought he was the most beautiful being I'd ever seen." Yuuri reached out and brushed Viktor's fringe out of his eyes.

Viktor flushed, but remained steadily gazing at the other man. "Uhuh, I wonder how you could forget if you were so smitten."

Yuuri laughed, "you inspired me to skate, but after my family died I lost it all."

A sad smile formed on Yuuri's face. "I'm sorry I forgot you," he whispered, cupping his hand to Viktor's cheek.

"Isn't it sad that we knew each other before we became..." Viktor closed his eyes and leaned into Yuuri's touch.

"The messes that we are?" Yuuri finished.

Viktor nodded gently, his eyes still closed. The pair remained like that for a while, until Yuuri shifted and Viktor cracked an eye open.

The only thing he saw was the flash of all-consuming, amber eyes before the warmth of Yuuri's lips pressed to his shoved every other thought out of his mind. Yuuri yanked him up out of his chair, releasing the man momentarily to shove him against the kitchen wall.

Yuuri crushed their lips back together, his hands trailing up and down Viktor's sides, leaving blazing heat, till they found a register on his hips. Viktor groaned against the other man's lips, faintly registering that Yuuri had pinned him to the wall. In one swift motion, he flipped them, his fingers nimbly grabbing Yuuri's wrist and pinning them against the wall above his head. Yuuri growled at the momentary loss of contact, hungrily kissing Viktor the moment he was close enough.

It wasn't long before this simply wasn't enough either, Yuuri switching again so Viktor was pressed against the wall. He reached for Viktor's tie, yanking the offensive thing off as he peppered kisses along the man's jawline and down his neck.

"W...wait, Yuuri," Viktor mumbled, tugging gently on Yuuri's hair.

"What?" Yuuri huffed, pausing for a moment.

"We are both drunk as hell. Honestly, I doubt you'll even remember this tomorrow."

"I am not that drunk."

Viktor grimaced then shook his head.

Yuuri rolled his eyes and nodded.

"We should go to bed. This is not the right time to be doing anything."

Yuuri sighed, shooting Viktor a sultry look as he leaned forward, pressing his lips to Viktor's ear. "Maybe I can give you a preview though," Yuuri whispered, nibbling the other man's ear lobe gently.

Viktor shuddered and let out a string of Russian that Yuuri didn't need to understand. Yuuri laughed as Viktor wriggled out of his grasp and slipped into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

"Goodnight, Vitya. Sweet dreams," Yuuri giggled, walking back into the kitchen to retrieve his glasses.

Phichit held a hand firmly over his mouth, his back pressed firmly against the wall in the shadows. As Yuuri slipped by, he dashed back to their bedroom, fumbled with the biometrics scanner and dived back into bed, hurrying to cover himself with the blanket.

"Yuuri what the actual fuck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurro everyone! Firstly, I was absolutely touched by the number of people that wished me luck for my exams, so thank you so much for caring <33 
> 
> As always, thank you so so so much for all comments, subscribers, bookmarkers? anyone who's tagging along for the ride ;D
> 
> Next chapter: Phichit confronts Yuuri, how will the best friends fare?


	27. I Won't Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!!!  
> Coraxenca has drawn two pieces for this Mafia AU on Tumblr and they are absolutely gorgeous so check 'em out:  
> https://coraxenca.tumblr.com/tagged/wildcard  
> Also, my Tumblr, if you want to drop by for a chat : D  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/apparentlyintelligentpotato  
> Without further ado, here's the chapter for this week <3
> 
> Phichit confronts Yuuri, how will the best friends fare?

 

Present Time, Detroit

 

Yuuri yawned as he continued chopping the carrots in front of him.

"Didn't sleep well?" Phichit sighed, leaning against the kitchen bench.

"Yeah, got back pretty late. Didn't sleep right away either."

"I see, what were you doing? What time did you go to bed?"

"Chatting with Viktor till very late, why?"

"Because I was awake until you went to bed."

Yuuri froze, his chopping faltering momentarily. He put the knife down, turning to face his friend.

"How much did you hear?"

"Oh, um," Phichit's smile tightened. "The bit where you shoved him up against the wall and started making out with him?"

"What do you want me to say, Phichit?"

"Give me an explanation."

"We're two consenting adults, that's all it is oka-"

"How do you do it, Yuuri?" Phichit hissed, his grip on his cup tightening.

"Do what?"

"Lie to me so easily!" Phichit roared, slamming his cup down on the table. "It's like I don't even know you anymore!"

"P...Phichit..." Yuuri choked, turning his back to his friend.

"You never tell me anything! What happened at the warehouse? Your mike was working just fine and yesterday. That Ivanekov guy, just some 'random' cop you say? Don't bullshit me. He would still look like Viktor even if he was bald and wrinkled. Why can't you tell me anything, Yuuri, I'm your best friend, aren't I? And Black Crane I just don't know what to-"

Every muscle in Yuuri's body tensed, his fingers forming a white-knuckled grip on the handle of the knife.

"Who told you?"

"What?"

"Who told you about me, the Black Crane. Who the fuck told you?!" Yuuri roared, turning to face Phichit, knife in hand.

"I..."

"Phichit, tell me! No one is supposed to know!" Yuuri's voice boomed, filling the room.

Phichit stumbled back.

"Phichit," Yuuri growled, "answer me. How long have you known?"

"I...It was Viktor. I caught him searching on my laptop and I figured it out myself."

"Well, that's not terrible." Yuuri hissed, lifting the knife, turning and stabbing it into the chopping board.

"W...why couldn't you tell me, Yuuri?"

"Why couldn't I tell you? WHY?! WHY DO YOU THINK?!"

"Why is it okay for Viktor to know?"

"Because Viktor gets it Phichit. I'm a monster!" Yuuri yanked the knife back out of the board.

Phichit had stumbled back far enough that he was backed against the wall, his knees wobbling as he slid to the ground, his eyes still wide as he stared up at his best friend.

"I...I'm sor-" Phichit sobbed.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?!"

"I'm s...so sorry." Phichit howled, hiding his head in his hands.

"You're probably just finding some fucking excuse to abandon me!"

 

Phichit was terrified. Yuuri hadn't stopped screaming and the knife was still swinging in his hand.

"Yuuri." Viktor's voice cut through the clamour of Yuuri's screaming.

Phichit peeked out of his hands from his corner of the kitchen to where Viktor stood, an expressionless mask on his face. He glanced down at Phichit, holding eye contact for a moment. Yuuri was watching Viktor now, his breathing laboured, shoulders hunched.

"Yuuri," Viktor repeated, stepping towards the disgruntled man cautiously.

"D...don't come near me..." Yuuri hissed.

"Yuuri," Viktor sighed, reaching for the man's face as soon as he was close enough.

Ever so gently, Viktor cupped a hand against Yuuri's cheek.

"Yuuri," he whispered.

Yuuri still shook, the knife held precariously between them.

"What's your name?"

Yuuri blinked and looking up, shook his head.

"What is your name?" The question came out as more of an order than a request.

"Y...Yuuri..." 

"Yuuri what?"

"Y...Yuuri Katsuki."

"Good. What's your mother's name?" Viktor murmured, his hands slowly moving from Yuuri's face to his shoulders.

"Hiroko K...Katsuki."

"And your dad?"

"T...Toshiya."

"And your sister?" Viktor's hands slid to a rest on Yuuri's wrist.

"Mari."

"What's your best friend's name?" Viktor wrapped his hands around Yuuri's, prying the knife from his fingers.

"Phichit. Phichit Chulanont." 

Viktor very slowly and gently placed the knife back down on the chopping board behind Yuuri, letting himself take a deep breath. Yuuri brought his hands up to his mouth, letting out a muffled sob.

"Shh, Yuuri, it's okay," Viktor whispered, placing a hand on Yuuri's shoulder.

"I need some air," Yuuri gasped, shoving Viktor out of the way and striding out of the kitchen.

 

Viktor waited for Yuuri to leave before walking over to where Phichit was huddled on the ground.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, no. I'm n...not okay. Yuuri has n...never done that. I set him off I said things and I mentioned the Black Crane it's all my fault!" Phichit sobbed.

Viktor sighed, turning on his heel and walking away.

"W...where are you going?" Phichit called, lifting his head out of his hands.

"To talk to Yuuri."

 

Yuuri sat outside, huddled over, crying in the rain.

"Yuuri?" Viktor asked, approaching slowly.

"O...Oh, hey Viktor." Yuuri said, his voice cracking as he reached up to wipe his eyes.

"You doing alright?"

"N...not really." Yuuri sniffled.

"Could I sit here?"

Yuuri nodded, tucking his chin back onto his knees. Viktor sat down, slipping his jacket off his shoulders and tossing it over Yuuri's.

"Vik-"

"It's okay. You need it more than me."

The pair sat in silence, the only sounds were Yuuri's diminishing sniffles and the soft patter of rain.

"T...thanks for keeping me company." 

"No problem." Viktor shrugged, a small shiver running through his body.

"Aren't you cold?"

"Nah, I'm Russian. I don't feel the cold."

"Idiot, you were born here," Yuuri sighed, elbowing Viktor.

Viktor chuckled and looked up towards the sky.

"Huh, seagulls?"

Yuuri looked up as well. "Yeah, those are seagulls."

Viktor sighed, "I'm reminded of St Petersburg when I hear seagulls. I never really noticed it, after living there so long. Do you ever have times like that?"

Yuuri rolled further in on himself. "I never trusted myself to tell Phichit about what I did. O...once I stuffed up and hurt a bunch of people. Oh wait, the bar, you know about that. And..." Yuuri looked towards Viktor as if requesting permission to continue.

This had nothing to do with seagulls, but Viktor nodded anyway. If he wanted to talk, then Viktor would let him.

"I hurt a bunch of people and I scared Phichit. I never had enough faith in him to seek comfort in him, to confide in him."

"Why?"

"I didn't want to lie or hide anything from him, I was just afraid of what it would do to our relationship. I didn't need him to be weighed down by my troubles. I didn't want him to think I couldn't handle myself."

"Yuuri," Viktor sighed, "you're not weak and no one else thinks that either."

Viktor glanced at Yuuri, whose eyes were still trained towards the clouds passing overhead.

"Yuuri?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you want me to be to you? A father figure?"

"No."

"A brother, then? A friend?"

"No.."

"Then, your boyfriend, I guess. I can try my best."

"Nononononono! I want you to stay who you are, Viktor! Not the White Demon of Russia, not a mob boss, just Viktor. No one should have to pretend to be something they aren't and I'm sorry I dragged you to Minako's and made you pretend-"

"It wasn't all pretend." Viktor smiled softly at the other man. "I really did have fun with you."

"It's hard to pretend be something you're not."

"And you're not a monster, Yuuri."

"That's debatable."

"You're not the Black Crane anymore. Whatever you did, it's in the past. End of story." Viktor crossed his arms and pouted.

"You can't just make things go away Viktor."

"But we can choose to live in the present."

 

Yuuri stared up at the sky silently for a while, the red streaks running down his cheeks slowly fading.

"I should apologise to Phichit."

Viktor nodded.

"He probably hates me."

Viktor scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. He probably wants to apologise as well."

Yuuri buried his face in his knees. "What am I gonna say?" He mumbled, his voice muffled.

"Yuuri, I can't hear you like that." Viktor sighed, patting Yuuri's shoulder.

Yuuri lifted his head, letting out a squeak when Viktor's finger landed squarely in the middle of his forehead.

"Why'd you-"

"Phichit would grab any opportunity to forgive you, Yuuri. So don't be afraid."

"He knows we...made out last night," Yuuri mumbled.

"Oh."

Viktor blinked, he hadn't actually expected Yuuri to remember.

"It's okay, I'm sure he'll get it." Yuuri stood and patted Viktor's hair.

"Are you sur-"

"What is there not to understand? It's not like we're involved." Yuuri shrugged.

"You're right." Viktor smiled crookedly. "We're not."

"Wish me luck then." Yuuri strode off without another word, leaving Viktor alone with the rain.

 

It didn't take long for Yuuri to find Phichit, curled up on the couch in the living room.

"Hey."

"H...hey."

"Look, Phichit, I'm sorry I lied to you and I kissed Viktor and stuff. I can explain."

Phichit looked up hesitantly, patting the space on the couch beside him.

"Where do you want me to start?"

"Viktor."

"O...okay. It was just an impulse thing and I was kind of drunk, you know?"

Phichit scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I don't know."

"Plus, you think he's pretty hot too, don't lie."

"I don't think right now is the time to criticize your professional behaviour," Phichit paused to eye Yuuri incredulously, "but damn Yuuri. You know making out with the guy you're in charge of keeping in line, even if he's hot, is just... That's a whole new level to sleeping with your partners."

"I was just...he was just...I just... couldn't help myself," Yuuri sighed.

"Oh my god, how drunk were you?" Phichit groaned, slapping a hand against his face.

"Just a little..."

"That explains the empty bottle of vodka."

"I only had like a few sips, swear to god the rest of it was Viktor. He needed it."

Phichit's eyes widened. "You took advantage of him?"

"W...what? No!"

Phichit's face melted into pure confusion. "You know it probably would've been so much easier if you just said you were both drunk."

"But then I would be lying. I was just a little drunk."

Phichit's lips formed a tight line.

"I don't want to lie to you anymore, Phichit."

"I know."

"Oh, long story short. Ivanekov is Viktor's biological father. Viktor ran away from home when he was younger and went to live with his mother." Yuuri knew he was cutting out a lot of details, but felt that Viktor had entrusted him with the story and that he might not be comfortable with Phichit knowing.

"I see."

"And Phichit, please, don't bother Viktor about it. He seemed pretty embarrassed about the whole thing."

"Embarrassed about making out with you or embarrassed about getting caught?"

"Getting caught, obviously." Yuuri snickered.

"I'm sure you're used to getting your ass caught in the act already," Phichit drawled.

Yuuri shrugged. "Not really, no one ever had a reason to call me out on it even if they did catch me."

"What kind of..."

"I...it just worked for me."

Phichit sighed and rested a hand on Yuuri's shoulder. "What happened at the factory?"

Yuuri gnawed on his lip. "The fire freaked me out."

"And when you got home?"

"I had a panic attack and then vomited."

"Ah, so Viktor was cleaning up your vomit..."

"Yeah..." Yuuri cringed.

The pair remained silent for a while.

"About...the past. You don't need to tell me." Phichit patted his best friend's arm rapidly, his infectious smile returning ever so slowly.

Yuuri nodded shakily. "Thank you. I...I'm better now, I swear, I just...let my impulses slip."

"I know buddy. Just...don't get involved with Viktor please, we know you think he's hot, but still." Phichit ruffled Yuuri's hair.

"Ugh, whatever. We're just friends." Yuuri flushed slightly.

Phichit opened his mouth to protest but was interrupted by Viktor knocking gently against the wall.

"Am I interrupting?"

"No, I was just about to go wash up." Yuuri stood and shrugged his jacket off, passing it to Viktor as he brushed by him.

Viktor held the jacket at arm's length for a while, staring at it absently.

"Just friends, huh?" Phichit murmured.

Viktor flinched. "Excuse me?"

"You're okay with that?"

Viktor gave Phichit a pained smile before turning and walking away. Phichit could've sworn he heard Viktor mutter, "I wouldn't say no."

 

* * *

  

Present time, St Petersburg

 

Otabek paused in front of the window, brushing the curtain aside momentarily and then letting it fall back with a sigh. He collapsed into the couch, digging his phone out of his pocket and scrolling absently.

Yuri snapped his book shut, tossing it onto the couch. He slinked across the living room, his shadow hanging over Otabek's frame as the older boy relaxed on the couch. The Russian lashed out, snatching Otabek's phone straight from his fingers.

"Yura," Otabek groaned.

"What are you hiding?" Yuri muttered.

"What are you talking about?"

Yuri scrolled through the phone, letting out a frustrated growl and throwing it back at its owner.

"You were just looking at damn paparazzi news," he hissed.

"What? Are you still pissed about being grounded by Chris?"

"Ha! Me? Grounded? You can't ground me," the teenager smirked and crossed his arms, "Chris is a fucking man-child who can't stay sober for 2 days in a row and he thinks he can ground me?"

"He's your legal guardian, Yura."

"And my mother is dead." Yuri spat back.

Otabek's expression flickered momentarily to worry, Yuri seldom mentioned his mother after all.

"Chris doesn't have to be around to keep you grounded. I'm here too you know."

"Yeah, you're just my fucking bodyguard hired by my brother to keep me in place." Yuri immediately regretted saying that.

The boy froze and visibly paled as Otabek's expression turned to ice, and by that Yuri meant it became even more emotionless than usual. That was bad. Way to go Plisetsky, piss off the one person who might actually listen to you.

"I'm going to bed." Otabek muttered, walking to his guest bedroom and 'slamming' the door 'gently'.

Yuri knew every motion, every quirk of Beka's like it was the back of his hand. He could tell when even a little of his anger slipped out.

 

Otabek sighed and sunk into his bed, the teenager was angry about something or other, he would probably have cooled off by morning. Although he knew Yuri hadn't meant it, it still stung. While Otabek was actually hired by Viktor as a bodyguard, he was first and foremost Yura's family and best friend. Yuri would eventually rack up the courage to apologise, in one way or another. Otabek should be used to his heated antics by now, but boy did it still hurt.

 

Nikolai paused outside of Yuri's room, watching as the young man rather aggressively shoved things into his sports bag.

"Yuratchka, is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna go skate at the rink for a bit," Yuri mumbled, swinging his backpack on.

"At this hour?" Nikolai inquired, following the boy to the door. "It's past 8 o'clock."

Yuri shrugged, bending down to shove his feet into his runners. "I'll be back before 12."

Nikolai opened his mouth to protest, but before he could Yuri had already bolted off into the darkness.

 

Yuri was pleasantly warmed up by the time he got to the rink. Maybe even a little too warm. He walked up to the entrance and tapped on the wide glass doors, hoping someone was still around to open it for him. Sure enough, the rink owner appeared, a confused expression on her face as she opened the glass doors with a press of a button.

"Late night skate?" She asked, locking the door behind him.

"Da." He grunted.

She passed him her key. "Lock up when you're done."

Yuri nodded and took the keys, it was pretty unusual for him to do this, but he needed to get out of the house. Away from other people.

 

He sighed as he skated figures around the rink, the slide of ice under his feet not seeming to reach that itch he so desperately needed to scratch.

"Yuri?" A voice called across the rink, causing the boy to come to a skidding halt, his expression one of terror.

"Lilia?!" A thousand excuses ran through Yuri's mind and none of them were good enough.

She beckoned him over. "The manager called and said she was worried you'd do something and hurt yourself."

"Oh..."

"You're here to skate, yes?"

"Yeah."

"Then skate. I don't want to see you doing any quads though." 

The older woman crossed her arms and leaned onto the barrier. It wasn't hard to see from where Yuri was that she had barely bothered to throw on some clothes to get out, compared to her usual full face of makeup.

Yuri nodded, pushing off from the barriers. He ran through his programs marking the jumps, just getting the feel for the step sequences and turns as he went through.

"Yuri?" Lilia called.

"Yeah?" He replied, slowing till he was tracking figures around the rink.

"You're distracted, did something happen?"

Yuri shrugged, "I was upset, I thought skating might make me feel better."

"Want to talk about it?"

For a while Yuri stayed silent, letting the scrape of metal against ice echo through the rink.

"I had a fight with Beka," he grunted, restarting his short program.

He could see Lilia's raised eyebrow from here.

"It's just a fight, I'm sure he'll get over it."

"I said shit, Lilia."

"You're always saying things. You've known him for how long now, going on 8 years? You think he can't cope with your words?"

"This is different, even I know when I've crossed lines." Yuri hissed.

"You cross plenty of lines, young man." Lilia sighed.

"You don't get it. I said my brother hires him to keep me in line. I said that he's just my bodyguard." Yuri gritted his teeth, picking up a little bit of speed before throwing himself into a triple axel.

"Yuri don't-" Lilia cried.

Everything was wrong, the rotations, the landing, the entire jump. It wasn't much of a surprise to Yuri when he came crashing down onto the ice. He scrambled back onto his feet, looking at Lilia to make sure she knew he was alright. He was better than this.

"Yuri, come here."

Yuri sighed, his shoulders hunched as he skated over to where Lilia was waiting. He ignored her when she told him not to attempt that jump, he was prepared for a beating.

"You can't skate like this."

Yuri was shocked by the uncharacteristic gentleness in her voice.

"I'm fine," he hissed, rubbing at his eyes.

"Yuri."

"What?" He growled, head snapping upwards to glare.

"You are strong, Yuri, but no one is devoid of weakness."

Yuri let out a shuddering breath, "but I'm not wrong, am I? Beka is just my bodyguard. It's his fucking job to deal with me." Yuri clutched a bunch of his shirt, trying to abate the stabbing sensation in his chest.

"Yuri, listen to yourself."

"My brother still pays him. Always has for the last 8 years. And Chris too, that fucker."

"Yes, but only out of courtesy. He would stick by you either way. Had it not occurred to you that he could've left at any point in these 8 years? He could've quit, but he hasn't. You're surrounded by people who love and support you, Yuri, you just need to see them."

"I'm always saying the first thing that comes out of my mouth. Always doing things that I know are stupid and Beka never gets angry. Everything is shit and it's all my fault. Beka is mad. Even Chris is mad." Yuri held his hand over his own mouth, "I don't know what to do. I'm such a screw-up." He stared at his feet, wiping angrily at the tears that threatened to fall.

"You can apologise, Yuri."

Yuri raised his head slowly. "You make it sound easy."

"It is."

"It's not."

"Maybe you should make a habit of learning how to apologise to people."

Yuri scoffed, smiling a little. The smile was quickly replaced with a look of terror. "I can't do it. What am I supposed to say?"

"I'm sorry?" Lilia grumbled, crossing her arms.

Yuri cringed, trying to mouth the words.

"Speak of the devil, you can practice."

Yuri whipped around just in time to see Chris come barreling into the rink looking like he'd run a marathon.

"You're kidding," Yuri wailed, putting his head down against the barrier.

"Yuri, look at me."

The boy sighed, turning his head to look up at the ex Prima ballerina. He yelped in surprise when she grabbed a lock of his hair, using it to pull him till he was standing.

"Stand straight, chin up." She commanded, tracing her finger along his chin. "Chest out." She slapped him on the back.

She grabbed him by the shoulders, twisting the spluttering boy till he was facing the opposite side of the rink where Chris stood.

"Yuri Plisetsky, you are the pride of Russia. And you are the Russian Ice Tiger, are you not?" She whispered, giving him a push on the back.

Yuri nodded and skated off towards Chris, trying not to concentrate on the way his palms had started to sweat profusely. When he reached the other side he grabbed his skate guards off the barrier and yanked them on.

"Your grandfather called and said you left the house alone to go skating, he was worried as hell."

Yuri nodded. "Chris..." he started.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry for everything," Yuri spat before shoving past him and disappearing into the changerooms.

 

Chris stared blankly after him, not noting when Lilia came to stand by his side.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Lilia murmured, a proud smile on her face.

"Was that supposed to be an apology?" Chris laughed mockingly.

Lilia shrugged, "practice makes perfect after all."

 

Several hours later, Otabek's ears pricked to the sound of his door being opened. He cracked open an eye. Yuri shuffled into the room. He padded over to the other side of Otabek's double bed, the sound of rustling sheets accompanied by a dip in the mattress. Otabek remained still, continuing his breathing as it had been. They'd done this a lot as children, never waking up in the same bed they'd been tucked into. His second pillow was nicer and softer for a reason, just the way Yuri liked it. Otabek froze, the sound of muffled sobbing filling his room.

"Yura?" He murmured, turning to face the boy.

"Fuck, did I wake you?" Yuri batted at his friend, "don't look."

"It's fine. I wasn't asleep anyway. Couldn't sleep?"

"I'm sorry I said those things. I was just...mad." He sniffled again, "please don't hate me."

"I wouldn't, couldn't hate you." Otabek sighed. "But Yura, what's wrong?" Otabek whispered, reaching out to stroke his hair.

Yuri let out another choked sob and curled into a ball. "N...nothing."

"Don't lie," Otabek muttered, dragging his fingers through the long blonde locks.

"Says you." Yuri sniffled, unfurling himself and smiling tiredly.

"Hmm?"

"Y...you'd tell me if something happened to my brother, right?"

Otabek froze. He'd misjudged. Yuri's face contorted as more tears fell.

"You'd t...tell me, right?"

"Come here." Otabek murmured, opening his arms.

Yuri shuffled across the bed and buried his face in Otabek's warm shoulder, his body relaxing as a pair of arms wrapped around him. Otabek tucked his chin on Yuri's head, the familiar smell of his favourite shampoo filling his nose.

"I...I saw a message from Chris on your phone a...about my brother and y...you just haven't s...said anything about it in weeks."

Otabek tries to balance rubbing soothing circles on the boy's back and running his fingers through his hair while thinking of an answer. He opted for the truth, Yuri was old enough to deal with more than the sweet lies of innocence.

"You want to know the truth?"

"I do." Yuri clenched his jaw, he didn't want to know.

"Your brother has been in police custody for a few months. Recently he escaped, we don't know exactly where he is, but he's fine."

"Oh, thank god." Yuri sobbed, "I thought he might be dead or some shit."

"He's not." At least Otabek was pretty sure he wasn't.

The two remained in companionable silence for a while as the Kazakh ran his fingers through the Russian's hair.

"Yura?" Otabek whispered, wondering if he'd already fallen asleep.

Yuri replied with a non-committal grunt. Guess not.

"You should sleep, Lilia will be mad if you turn up for practice exhausted." Otabek half expected the younger man to shoot back a snarky comment. Instead, he nodded sleepily against Otabek's chest, cuddling closer.

"You're sleeping here then?"

Yuri reached up and slapped a hand over his mouth. "Just shut up and sleep Beka."

Otabek allowed a small smile to show under Yuri's hand, shut up it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, please subscribe, bookmark, leave comments or drop some kudos! 
> 
> Next time: everything is back to normal, or so Yuuri thinks.


	28. The Little Giant's Crown (Pt. 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI GUYS!  
> Please note I accidentally posted this before I had time to edit so edits are coming in within the hour so please oh god please just wait an hour before you read this I'm so so sorry for the inconvenience I am a little out of it right now!

St. Petersburg

 

 

In the early hours of the morning, Otabek woke up sweating and feeling a little like he was suffocating. He'd rolled onto his back in his sleep, leaving him open for attack by a certain snoring, still sleeping Russian kitten. Somehow the teen had managed to migrate his head onto Otabek's chest, the top half of his body sprawled over him.

One of Yura's arms was covering Otabek’s face. Yep, that would explain the suffocation. Otabek gingerly shifted the arm, sucking in a deep breath of the cool air. He looked down at Yuri, snoring and drooling into his shirt. Reaching out, he brushed a loose strand of hair out of Yuri’s sleeping face. Otabek snickered, he was literally sleeping in a puddle of his own drool.

The Kazakh dragged a few fingers through his relatively unknotted hair, appreciating the silky feel of the blonde locks. Yuri let out another snore. Otabek sighed, turning his attention to the open door of his bedroom as a light flickered on further down the corridor. Shit. Nikolai must be awake already. The sound of shuffling feet and a door creaking open. Otabek held his breath.

"Yurotchka?" Panic hitched the older man's tone.

"Fuck," Otabek grumbled, accompanied by the sound of rushed limping towards his room.

Nikolai turned on the light in the hallway,  his body casting a shadow into the room. Otabek didn't even bother to pretend like he was sleeping, removing the arm he had draped around Yuri's frame.

"I was worried, I heard some thunder. You know how Yura gets."

Otabek nods. He hadn't noticed any thunder, the two of them must've slept through it. 

"Is he still asleep?"

"Yeah...I didn't want to wake him, he was comfortable and he doesn't need to wake up for another half hour."

"Mm..."

Otabek stared awkwardly at the ceiling, it was awkward craning his neck to look at the older man. 

"I'll make some breakfast, make sure he wakes up in time. Don't want Lilia getting grumpy."

Otabek nodded. Nikolai nodded and shuffled off towards the kitchen, his walking stick sounding like a third foot. Well, that was awkward. He was going to have to explain to Yura later that his precious Dedushka caught him sleeping in his arms. Otabek sighed, he needed a shower and Yura needs to wake up. Ever so gently he pressed a hand to Yuri's shoulder, shaking him gently. The teenager groaned, swatting at the hand.

"Fuck off..." He mumbled.

"Yura, we need to wake up." Otabek brushed a few stray locks out of his half-lidded eyes.

"Beka?" Yuri rolled over onto his stomach, his elbows digging into the Kazakh's ribs.

"Yura," Otabek groaned, "you're killing me."

Yuri let out a grunt and collapsed back into Otabek's chest, face first into a puddle of drool.

"Fuck. Ew, what the hell is this?" Yuri rolled off, rubbing his face into Otabek's pillow.

Otabek chuckled lowly. "I need a shower."

"I'm sorry," Yuri groaned into the pillow, "that was my fault wasn't it?"

"Maybe." Otabek smiled, slipping out of the bed while he could still escape. 

Yuri apologised, which meant he wasn't fully awake yet. Otabek reached out and patted the top of his head gently, ruffling the Russian's hair lightly. He slipped off to take a shower.

 

10 minutes later...

 

Yuri propped his chin up on his elbow. He bundled himself up whilst laying on his stomach. He didn't feel like waking up. Otabek stepped out of the shower with nothing but a towel around his hips. Yuri whistled. "Good morning, the tattoo looks nice."

"You chose it, of course it looks nice." Otabek picked a fresh shirt and a pair of jeans out of the cupboard before collapsing into the bed beside Yuri.

He covered his head with a towel and began working the moisture out. Yuri reached out, his fingertips tracing the black outlines of the tiger printed on Otabek's shoulder. It was a masterpiece. Yuri's fingers followed the lines over his shoulder and onto his shoulder blade, leaving goosebumps wherever he went. Otabek reached for his shirt and pulled it on, not once making eye contact. 

The Russian let out a disgruntled whine, "hey, I was enjoying the view."

Otabek rolled his eyes. "Yura, you'd better get out of bed before your Pirozhki gets cold."

"Huh?"

"Your Dedushka is making Pirozhki."

Yuri seemed to make the connection in his head. "Dedushka woke up before us?" He screeched in a hushed whisper.

"Yeah, there was a thunderstorm earlier and he was worried about you."

"I'm not five anymo- wait, fuck! Did he walk in on us-"

"Sleeping together? Yeah."

"Oh my god. Beka, how am I gonna explain-"

"Calm down." He rested a hand on the screeching Russian's shoulder, "He didn't take it the wrong way."

"Still, Dedushka isn't Chris. He doesn't know you. Us. He won't get it."

The word 'us' echoed briefly in Otabek's mind. "Just, go and eat breakfast normally."

Yuri nodded. He scrambled out of bed, nearly dragging the sheets and blankets with him as he went. Otabek let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

They’d been staying at Nikolai’s for nearly two weeks. Between Otabek cramming for tests, doing the dishes every night and chauffeuring Yuri absolutely everywhere (using the car of course), Nikolai had warmed up significantly. Once Chris finished sorting things out, they would be able to go back home, not that Yuri minded very much.

It'll be alright.

 

* * *

  

 

Back in Detroit,

 

Yuuri yawned as he shuffled out of his room, his hair sticking up in every which direction.

"Good morning, Yuuri!" Viktor chirped, shooting Yuuri his heart-shaped smile while waving a spatula about.

Yuuri mumbled something and made a half-hearted wave towards the man who was much too energetic for the cursed hour of the morning. Phichit watched on in mild amusement, his phone out and ready in case Yuuri did something particularly adorable.

"Are pancakes alright?" Viktor called from the kitchen.

Yuuri groaned and leaned against the wall, dragging himself slowly, but surely, towards the smell of fresh pancakes.

"I think that was a yes from Yuuri," Phichit laughed, snapping a picture of Yuuri to show him when he was conscious later.

Yuuri did eventually making it to the kitchen between shuffling and groaning like a zombie. It was almost like he was on autopilot, shuffling right towards his usual seat at the table. The only difference being that papers and boxes covered the half of the kitchen floor that Yuuri was allowed to use. Viktor cleared the papers and boxes right in front of Yuuri's feet, pushing them aside and putting them right back once Yuuri had passed.

Phichit would have laughed if someone had told him a year ago that The Viktor Nikiforov was the mothering type, but here Phichit was, laughing nonetheless. Viktor pulled out a seat just in time for Yuuri to collapse into it, whether it had been there to catch him or not. Yuuri was never awake in the morning.

"Yuuuuuuri~" Viktor sighed as he pressed what Phichit assumed to be a mocha into Yuuri's fingers.

"Mm,"  Yuuri mumbled, bringing the cup up to his nose. "Smells good."

Viktor slid a plate of pancakes right under his nose.

"Eat up." Viktor placed another two plates on the table, seating himself in front of one. "Phichit, come eat your pancakes before they get cold."

"Yes, mom," Phichit chirped, joining the other two men at the table.

The sharp glare Viktor shot Phichit was nothing short of mom-worthy. Phichit pulled out his Instagram and tried to ignore the disgustingly domestic scene in front of him. 

"Yuuri, at least pay attention to what you're eating," Viktor mumbled as he nibbled away at his own pancake.

Yuuri groaned and keeled forwards, coming within inches of faceplanting in his pancakes if not for Viktor's hand steadying his shoulder. Viktor didn't even look away from his own food as he pushed Yuuri back into a sitting position. 

"Yuuri, at least eat something." Viktor picked up a small piece of pancake on Yuuri's fork and offered it to him.

Yuuri leaned forward and plucked the offering off the fork before relaxing back into the chair.

It was safe to say everything was more or less back to normal. The incident and all the screaming and knife swinging was quickly forgiven. When Phichit looked up, his eyes widened in disbelief. 

Between feeding a sleep-addled Yuuri pieces of pancake, Viktor was trying to have a one-sided conversation and it seemed to be working (somehow).

"If you're going to be so tired maybe you shouldn't have stayed up so late."

"Mmm...w'wortit."

"You don't have even the tiniest regrets?"

"w's grafinal." Yuuri shrugged.

"We have it recorded, you could've watched it another time. Actually, we've already watched it like ten times."

"Whtime?" Yuuri shook his head.

Phichit pondered, what was it? He couldn't quite put a finger on it. An instinctual level of understanding between the two of them? Phichit couldn't help but think back to that moment in the kitchen when all he could do was cower in fear while Viktor had managed to calm Yuuri down.

Viktor reached over and wiped a corner of Yuuri's mouth with a serviette.

"You have time."

Yuuri mumbled something completely incomprehensible to Phichit, but Viktor seemed to understand because he clicked his tongue chidingly. Just like normal, right?

 

Later that Day,

 

Viktor sat beside Phichit, keeping himself busy by fiddling with his fingers.

"Pay attention, would you?" Phichit grumbled, swatting the older man's hands apart.

Viktor shrugged and glanced at the monitor set up in front of them.

"He's not here anyway."

"Yeah, well we'll need you to be watching him the moment he comes in."

"Trust me, you'll know. He's Italian, old and wrinkly with a receding hairline." Viktor grinned.

"So, just like you?" Yuuri deadpanned through the intercom.

Viktor gasped.

"He's making that face isn't he?" Yuuri chortled.

"What face?" Viktor pouted.

"Yeah, he's making the face," Phichit replied.

"What goddamn face? This is my normal face!"

"Exactly." Phichit smiled innocently.

"You're such a drama queen, Viktor," Yuuri laughed.

Viktor crossed his arms and glared pointedly at the monitor.

"Oh, he's here."

"Shit."

"Is everyone in place?" Celestino asked, sitting up in his chair.

"Ready," a myriad of voices echoed.

"He just left his office," Yuuri whispered.

Mario drifted across one of the subdivisions of their screen, passing from one screen to another till he was in the main part of the club.

"You're clear, Katsuki."

"Thanks."

Everyone in the room watched in silent apprehension as Mario sat down opposite Smith, the two men tucked away in a booth at the back of the club. Things instantly didn't seem to be going very well. Mario was unforgiving. 

"He's getting bored, stall him, goddamnit. Yuuri needs more time," Phichit hissed.

"We're trying."

"Sorry, I need at least another 5 minutes," Yuuri whispered.

Viktor and Phichit cursed out loud as Mario got out of his seat and, thank god, walked to the refreshments. The old man returned to the table more agitated than before.

"If you won't give me what I want we're done here," he grunted, swishing his glass of whiskey.

Phichit could see Smith sweating through the monitor.

"With all due respect, this is a zero-sum game."

The man laughed mockingly, "who said I had to work with small fry like you?"

 Viktor pressed a hand to Phichit's shoulder. "We have to do something."

"I know, but what can we do from here without blowing everyone's cover?"

"I have an idea," he glanced over at Celestino, "and you're not gonna like it."

"Do elaborate."

"It's a bit hard to explain until I show you. I'm just going to distract him physically."

Celestino nodded. "We're desperate, make it happen."

"I'm gonna borrow Phichit." Viktor gave Phichit a strained smile.

Viktor grabbed Phichit's arm and dragged him out of the room.

"Please tell me this does not involve me being a hostage, I'm a terrible actor."

Viktor pulled Phichit through a door labelled staff-only.

"It doesn't involve you acting, but it does involve you lending me your badge." He turned and gestured for Phichit to pass it over.

"You could at least tell me your plan." 

A door swung open down the hallway, the sound of heels clicking filling the silence.

"Hurry and give me 50 bucks," Viktor urged.

Phichit groaned, dug the badge out of his pocket and shoved a 50 dollar bill into Viktor's open hand. Viktor quickly reached out and shoved Phichit into the shadows of the hall.  A young woman stepped closer, a confused expression on her face. 

"You shouldn't be back here-"

Viktor yanked her closer by the wrist, Phichit held his hand over his mouth and tried desperately not to gasp or choke on his own spit.

"Do a brother a favour," Viktor whispered, pulling the cuff of his sleeve back and showing the woman his wrist.

She looked up, her eyes betraying a knowing sadness. 

"What do you want?"

Viktor flashed Phichit's badge.

"Just need a uniform and 10 minutes on the floor."

The girl chewed the inside of her cheek. "Okay, here, take this." She pressed a key into his palm. "And when you're done, leave it in my locker. Trisha, by the way."

"Thank you," Viktor whispered.

"Don't let it go to waste," she murmured in reply, turning to walk away.

"Wait, Trisha."

The woman, no girl, Phichit could see her face clearly now. She couldn't be older than 20.

"Yeah?"

Viktor reached out and pressed the 50 dollar bill into her hands. "Please, give yourself a break."

The girl smiled painfully, tearing up. "Thank you," she mouthed as she slipped back out into what Phichit assumed was an alley at the back of the premises.

"Phichit?" Viktor called, pulling the Thai man out of his stupor.

"Uh, yeah?" Phichit stepped back into the light.

"Thanks for that." 

Phichit shrugged as he tried to peer inconspicuously at Viktor's wrist and whatever he had shown the woman. Viktor seemed to notice and turned away with a flourish, not fast enough to stop Phichit from catching a glimpse. It was a tattoo of a crown, probably the size of a two-inch square. What it meant, Phichit had no idea.

"Hurry up." Viktor held the door open for Phichit.

"Sorry, aren't you gonna tell me what your plan is?" Phichit asked as he closed the door behind him.

"I'm literally gonna go out there and sit in his lap and distract him."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard me right." Viktor started unbuttoning his shirt as he disappeared behind a screen.

"Viktor, won't he recognise you? You said you've met before, right?"

"I did say that."

"Then how exactly are you expecting to pull this off?"

"Trust me, he won't recognise me."

"How does anyone not recognise you?"

Viktor shook his head.

"He'll recognise you and we'll all be fucked cause everyone in the underworld knows you're in police custody."

"He won't." Viktor stepped out from behind the screen.

"He'll recognise you!" Phichit snapped.

"I won't recognise myself!"

The two glared at each other, mouths open and breathing heavily. They were shaken out of their glaring contest when Phichit's phone vibrated in his pocket.

"Celestino said he wants me to go back and grab you an earpiece," Phichit murmured, striding out of the room before he could get any more uncomfortable.

 

"Phichit?" Yuuri's voice buzzed in the Thai man's ear.

"Yuuri? What's up? Aren't you supposed to be, I don't know, hacking a particular mobster's computer?"

"I am. I'm waiting for the files to copy over."

"Okay?"

"What's happening? I heard Viktor is helping. Something about him meeting Mario?"

"Uh, yeah. He said he'd distract him. How long do you need?"

"Computer is slow. Another 5 minutes maybe."

"Okay."

"Phichit?"

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Give Viktor one of my knives. It should be small enough for him to hide it in a  shirt sleeve. Wouldn’t want him to go out there completely defenceless."

"O...okay."

Phichit knocked and slipped back into the room where the cops had set up shop. Leo had an earpiece ready to go and handed it to him. 

"Get moving, Chulanont, we need that distraction quick."

"Yessir," Phichit replied as he dug through Yuuri's bag, fingers grasping around the cool handle of a knife.

He slipped back out of the room and headed back to the dressing room. He opened the door quietly, hoping no one else would notice him sneaking around back here. 

Phichit froze, his feet rooted in place as he prepared to back out of the room. "Oh my god, I'm so-"

Waist-long tresses of silver hair poured down the figure's shoulders and were brushed to one side, exposing the pale nape of their neck.

"Oh, Phichit, welcome back." Viktor threw a smirk over his shoulder.

"Holy shit," Phichit breathed. "Is that you?"

Viktor turned and gave a small smile. He cleared his throat, then began talking in a light Russian accent. "What? Do I not look like me?" He glanced into the mirror and undid another button on his dress shirt.

"Agreed on the 'I don't recognise you' part."

Viktor smiled and batted his eyelashes.

"The makeup is a little rushed, but it'll have to do."

Viktor looked younger. A lot younger.

"Wait. What makes you think you can just swing into his lap."

A dark expression flitted across Viktor's calm facade.

"I have a feeling." A feeling that he was the kind of man that would want control over anything beautiful.

Phichit left it at that, feeling it would be otherwise intrusive to continue enquiring.

"Here, tuck this into your ear, you'll be able to hear us and we'll be able to hear you."

Viktor brushed his hair behind one ear and tucked the earpiece in. 

"Right, I'm ready to go," Viktor murmured.

"All coms online."

"One more thing," Phichit pulled Yuuri's knife out and offered it to Viktor.

"A knife?"

"Just in case, Yuuri said he wanted you to be able to defend yourself at least."

Viktor took the knife. "I've gone into plenty of meetings unarmed, but thanks for the thought anyway."

Viktor walked to the door and paused. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah, try your best not to tip them off." 

There, the two men went different ways. Phichit returned to the nest of police officers and Viktor headed out to the floor, his head held high. It had been a while since the last time he had performed.

 

He scooped a tray of drinks off a bench, striding up to the group tucked away in the far corner with as much confidence as he could muster.

"Could I get you gentlemen anything?" He asked, brushing his fingers over Mario's lap as he bent down to grab their empty glasses.

Smith watched on in shock. He too had not recognised Viktor immediately. He wouldn't have recognised the other man at all unless the team behind the scenes had told him. 

Mario smiled. "Why don't you sit down with us for a moment, um?"

"Alexis," Viktor replied, shooting the older man a smile. "Let me just put these glasses away."

Viktor slipped away quickly, stashing the glasses on a shelf.

He returned to an expectant looking Mario. What he wasn't expecting, was when he reached out and yanked Viktor into his lap, a firm arm wrapped around Viktor's waist. Viktor giggled and squirmed in his lap, shooting a glance at Smith. The meeting continued, the man thoroughly distracted as he kneaded every inch of Viktor's flesh with his sweaty hands. Viktor counted in his head trying to maintain his sanity and trying not to let his disgust show on his face. Viktor suppressed a shudder as the man's breath ran down the back of his neck. Viktor had to be careful, if he got any closer he could see the earpiece.

"5 minutes Viktor."

Viktor smiled and batted his eyelashes amicably. Just a few more minutes. Viktor nearly swore out loud when he felt a wet kiss pressed against his neck.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, I'll be back," he murmured, excusing himself quickly.

"How much longer?" He whispered when he was far away enough from any prying ears.

"A few minutes."

Viktor made his way to the men's bathroom. He paused in the corridor momentarily, his eyes staring down the hallway to where he knew Mario's office was and where Yuuri was right now. He pushed the door open and went to stand by one of the sinks. 

"Shit, he left. He's going to his office!" A voice crackled in Viktor's ear.

Viktor jolted upright. Shit. Viktor rushed out of the bathroom and ran straight into Mario himself.

"Oh, Alexis darling, I was just looking for you," he drawled.

The man pressed Viktor against the wall, forcing their lips together. Viktor could feel his sweaty hands, touching him everywhere, not leaving a single spot unblemished. He rolled his head back and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the way his stomach twisted and lurched with every touch. 

"Let's go to my office," he whispered.

Well, shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, please subscribe, bookmark, leave comments or drop some kudos!


	29. The Little Giant's Crown (Pt. 2)

_Last Chapter..._

 

_"Shit, he left. He's going to his office!" A voice crackled in Viktor's ear._

_Viktor jolted upright. Shit fuck fuckity. Viktor rushed out of the bathroom and ran straight into Mario himself._

_"Oh, Alexis darling, I was just looking for you," he drawled._

_The man pressed Viktor against the wall, forcing their lips together. Viktor could feel his sweaty hands, touching him everywhere, not leaving a single spot unblemished. He rolled his head back and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the way his stomach twisted and lurched with every touch._

_"Let's go to my office," he whispered._

_Well, shit._

 

* * *

 

Viktor shoved him off, to his surprise, and smirked.

"What? I'm not good enough for a bed?" Viktor prayed that wasn't too far.

The man's lips curled into a smile.

"Aren't you a feisty one? I like that," he crooned, grabbing Viktor's hand and tugging him away from the office.

There was a collective sigh of relief in Viktor's ear.

"Viktor, you should get out of there," Yuuri murmured. "I'll be done in like 2."

Viktor had no sensible way to extricate himself from this situation. They padded upstairs on a small staircase at the back of club going up to a corridor full of rooms for exactly this purpose.

Viktor counted the doors as if impatient, in reality, it was to let the ears on the other end of the line know where he was. Mario trapped him against the door, pressing desperate kisses to Viktor's neck as he opened the door behind him.

It was spiralling out of control faster than Viktor could blink. His back was pressed to a bed, chubby, sweaty fingers ripping at the buttons of his shirt and sticky kisses peppered to his chin and climbing up towards his ear. As smoothly as his shaking hands could allow, Viktor slipped his hand among the silver strands of the wig and pulled out his earpiece, stuffing it under a pillow. They were most definitely screwed if he found that. Viktor responded, half-heartedly trying to take the guy's jacket off.

It was a hauntingly familiar motion.

Mario ripped the remaining buttons off the shirt, any sense of decency flying right out the window. As he pawed at Viktor's pants Viktor's eyes jerked open as he sat up, nearly kicking the guy in the face. He completely forgot about the knife tucked against his hip.

"S...sorry, I've gotta clean up!" Viktor stuttered out, scrambling off the bed and straight into the bathroom.

He shut the door as gently as he could and locked it behind him, letting himself slide down to the ground. After a moment of composing himself, he crawled over to the shower, letting the water run. He curled up against the wall, tucking his knees against his chest and burying his face in his knees. 

"Someone save me," Viktor whispered.

 

Moments later, Viktor heard a muffled knock. Thankfully, not the bathroom door, but the hotel room. Viktor flinched when the familiar sound of Yuuri's voice reached his ears. He scrambled over to the bathroom door and cracked it open, just wide enough so that he could see. Yuuri was standing at the open door, a hospitable smile on his face.

"Gift of some friends of yours from downstairs, sir." 

Balanced on Yuuri's hand was a tray with two flutes of champagne.

"Why thank you," Mario murmured as he scooped the two glasses off the tray and immediately went to take a sip of his own.

Yuuri bowed and left as quickly as he had come leaving Viktor alone once again. What felt like a few moments later, the sound of knuckles rapping against the bathroom door caused Viktor to flinch. He scrambled as far away from the door as he could get, Yuuri's knife clutched in his hands.

"Viktor, it's me," Yuuri's muffled voice called.

Viktor crawled over to the door and unlocked it, opening it slowly.

"Y...Yuuri?" Viktor sighed in relief.

"Are you alright?" Yuuri knelt down in front of him, leaning forward to wrap a police jacket around Viktor's shoulders.

Yuuri noticed Viktor's tiny flinch when his fingers brushed the older man's hunched shoulders.

"I'm fine." Viktor pressed his cheek against the wall. He did not feel fine.

"Okay, we're getting out of here. Do you need a hand?"

"Yuuri, I said I'm fine," Viktor grumbled, his voice sounding a lot shakier than he had hoped to sound.

He leaned against the wall, using it to help stand on his legs shaking like a newborn deer. He took a few unsteady steps into the bedroom, sparing a glance for the man who was passed out on the bed, a flute of champagne still held loosely in his fingers. Yuuri, despite being visibly worried, did not continue question Viktor as they rushed out of the premises to meet up with everyone else. Viktor piled into the back of the police van and found himself a quiet corner to sit. He pulled Yuuri's jacket closer around his shoulders, trying not to appreciate that it smelled just like the other man.

 

Viktor managed to hold it together till they got home, his face completely straight even as he sprinted to the bathroom and threw up into the toilet bowl. He kicked the bathroom door shut from where he was on the floor, hoping Yuuri and Phichit hadn't heard or seen him. He didn't want Yuuri to see him like this.

 

Later....

 

Phichit glanced up as Viktor walked into the kitchen, the Thai's face contorting into one of confusion. It was barely off summer and Viktor, who usually walked around more or less naked except for shorts and a singlet (at best), looked like he was dressing for a cool autumn day. 

He wore loose black track pants, and an even looser white shirt and to top it all off, a grey hoodie that was also way too big on him. The hood was pulled firmly down over his face, concealing his hair and eyes, like a child trying to hide among layers of clothing. 

Phichit watched as Viktor grabbed the ice cream tub and retreated to his room, sharing a worried glance with Yuuri.

"He's not okay," Yuuri murmured.

"No shit, Sherlock." Phichit sighed and muted the TV. "Should we check on him? Did he get hurt today?"

Yuuri shook his head. "I don't think so. I'll go check on him."

Yuuri extricated himself from his comfortable spot beside Phichit and padded over to Viktor's bedroom.

He rapped his knuckles gently against the door. "Viktor? Can I come in?" Yuuri tried turning the knob which, unsurprisingly, didn't budge. A moment later, the quiet sound of the lock disengaging echoed down the hall. Yuuri waited a moment then opened the door slowly, squinting to see into the dark room as he stepped in.

"Viktor?" 

The sound of a spoon scraping against cardboard brought his attention to the furthest corner of the room. His eyes had adjusted by now, letting him see into the dark corner. Viktor sat on the floor, his knees drawn up against his chest, an arm wrapped around his legs and the tub of ice cream balanced on his knees.

"Can I come over?"

Viktor nodded.

Yuuri rounded the bed and paused a few steps away from Viktor and sat on the floor cross-legged.

"Is this okay?"

Viktor nodded once again. The way Viktor had acted before, flinching away from his touch, Yuuri wanted to be careful and do this right.

"Are you okay, Viktor?"

Viktor stabbed the spoon back into the ice cream and placed the container down between them.

"I would say yes, but I think I'd be lying," he croaked.

Yuuri nodded. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"Physically? No."

"Okay, do you want to talk about what happened?"

Silence. "I hated it, you know."

Yuuri gestured for him to continue.

"As much as I wanted to, you can't disconnect your body from everything else, it just doesn't work that way. But I still tried to use my body like it was just another asset. I hated it so much, I thought I would've gotten over it by now."

"You didn't have to, shouldn't have had to step in. I was-"

"Was what, Yuuri? Going to get caught? Going to bash your way through a dozen men to get out alive?"

"You didn't have to do that for me. If not for me, then don't do it for yourself," Yuuri whispered. 

"I couldn't just stand by! You're... you're my friend. I do what I have to do!"

Yuuri felt all the air in his lungs leave, the heavily silence seeping into his bones.

"I'm sorry," Yuuri whispered.

"No, don't apologise. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"No, it's okay really." 

The pair lapsed into silence, looking anywhere but at each other. Yuuri spared a glance at Viktor.

He pondered to himself internally, "friends huh?"

"Yuuri?"

"Mm?"

"Come, sit here." Viktor reached out and patted the empty space next to him.

Yuuri shuffled over, leaving Viktor a good centimetre of air. He nearly let out a gasp when Viktor leaned over, planting his head firmly on Yuuri's shoulder, effectively removing any space between them. Yuuri held his breath, trying not to be distracted by the silver strands of hair that he could see out of the corner of his eye, which were tickling his neck or the intoxicating smell of Viktor's preferred shampoo or whatever it is that he uses.

"Just stay for a while, Yuuri," Viktor sighed.

Yuuri nodded and gingerly wrapped an arm over the figure curled against him. Viktor's breaths evened out after a while, indicating he was probably asleep. Yuuri gently pulled the ice cream container from his fingers and put the lid back on. He set the ice cream aside and got out his phone.

 

>Yuuri: Hey, Viktor fell asleep on my shoulder and I don't want to wake him. Come get the ice cream b4 it melts. 

 

<Phichit: uh k

 

A moment later Phichit entered the room quietly, his eyes squinting in the darkness.

"Over here," Yuuri whispered.

Phichit padded over and knelt down in front of the pair.

"Hey, is he okay?"

"No, but he'll be okay."

"He's drooling on your shoulder."

Yuuri shrugged. "I know."

 

* * *

 

Cleveland, Ohio 2005

 

Viktor slipped out of the bed, glancing over his shoulder at the older man snoring away on the other side of the bed. He tiptoed across the room picking up his clothes off the floor as he went. He padded into the bathroom, immediately reaching to get the water in the bath running.

Once he was sufficiently pleased with the temperature he dipped into the water, letting himself sink until his chin was just above the water, his hair tied up in a bun on the top of his head. After a minute of pure soaking, he reached for the soap and started cleaning himself meticulously starting with his nails. He moved down to his arms, being gentle as he washed the makeup covering his forearms, wincing as he brushed over the small cuts.

 

No matter how much he scrubbed, it was never enough.

 

When he was done he slipped his shirt and dress pants back on, tiptoeing back into the room. He walked over to the bedside table, plucking the wad of cash that had been left there for him and weighing it in his hand. He took a moment to count the bills before tucking them into his back pocket and leaving the room, making sure to lock the door behind him.

He passed back out into the main room and from his vantage point he could see across most of the club.

Viktor slipped into the staffroom quietly and walked straight to his locker.

"Ah, hello Viktor," a woman called from her seat in the corner of the room by the window.

"Hey, Cassandra."

"You're finishing early for the night."  She murmured as she lit a cigarette.

"Yeah, it's my brother's birthday, are you on break?"

"Yeah, your brother, that little tiger, how old is he turning? Seven? Six?"

"Five."

"Aww, he should be starting school soon then shouldn't he."

"Yeah." Viktor shrugged a jumper on over his shirt.

"Anyhoo, how was the new client?" She asked, sliding out of her seat and padding over to the younger man.

"He had a tiny dick if that's what you were asking," Viktor smirked.

"Such a darling, aren't you?" She cooed, pinching his cheek.

"What can I say? I'm a favourite." Viktor returned to stuffing his belongings into a duffel bag.

"You're good at this, you know?" She draped her body lazily over his slender frame.

"Good at what?"

"Burying your heart and soul."

Viktor scoffed and shrugged her off. "Give me a drag of that."

Cassandra watched curiously as he pulled the cigarette from her fingers and took a breath of that burning smoke, before letting out a long breath.

Viktor passed the cigarette back and smiled bitterly. "Sometimes I think I just don't have anything left to bury."

"You know, it's not too late to stop."

"Don't be ridiculous, tell me another job which will give me these hours and this kind of cash." Viktor pulled the wad of cash he'd just received and slapped it on the table.

"You're still a kid, Viktor. You're 16, you have options."

"I don't."

She gave him a pitying smile. "You know, I got myself an extra job the other day. If you're interested?"

Viktor raised an eyebrow. "Doing what?"

"Toting drugs."

"Drugs? Wow, that's a whole new level." Viktor turned back to packing."

"Don't tell me you're not interested."

"Who are you working for? A gang?" Viktor asked sarcastically. 

"Honestly, I've never met any real gang members. Just some lowly guys who give me the goods and tell me where to go. Russian maybe."

Viktor flinched, so was a gang. "Russian, huh?"

"Yeah, Bratva or something like that."

Viktor zipped up his bag and tossed it over his shoulder. "You'll tell me more tomorrow?"

Cassandra nodded.

"Right, I'm heading out. Have a good night."

"Mm, you too. Give my best wishes to your brother." 

Viktor paused, holding the door open. "I will."

 

Viktor slipped out of the back of the building into a dark alley lit only by pink and red fluorescent lights. He yanked his hood over his silver head of hair and pulled his bag closer as he walked out onto the street. Viktor turned the corner onto an empty street and walked straight to the bus stop, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to keep them warm.

Viktor paused in front of the storefront, a small smile lighting up his face. On the other side of the thin glass, a stuffed tiger sat back on its hind legs, it's face curled into a toothy smile. It was perfect. Ten minutes later Viktor was sprinting out of the department store and headed towards the post office, managing to slip in minutes before closing time.

"Hi, sorry, I'm here to pick something up."

"Yes sir, just need to see your parcel notice."

Viktor pulled the crumpled card out of his pocket and handed it over. The woman pored over the card for a moment before excusing herself to get the item out of the storeroom. She returned within moments, to the impatient boy's relief and passed the package over. With his package secured in his duffel bag he sprinted off towards home, a glance at his watch telling him he was already late. 

 

Yuri jumped to his feet at the sound of the front door being unlocked, nearly knocking over the army of lions, tigers and a plethora of other feline toys at his feet.

"I'm home!" Viktor mumbled as he walked into the living room and kicked his shoes off. 

"Geez I need new shoes my feet are soaked- OOF." Viktor nearly fell over from the blonde little ball of excitement that had just tackled him.

"How was your day, Yura?" Viktor laughed as he swung his brother around and tucked him onto his hip.

"Mm, good, Dedushka made lots of pirozhki!"

"Mm that sounds delicious," Viktor hummed as he knelt and put his brother down.

"Dinner!" Yuri screeched.

"Yura," Viktor sighed, a fond smile on his face. "I have something for you. Your birthday present."

Yuri's eyes widened. Viktor grinned wickedly and dug through his bag, pulling out the white parcel and handing it to his brother.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH, WHAT IS IT?" Yuri squealed as he dug at the package stubbornly.

"Okay, you're never going to get it open like this. Let's go to the kitchen and get some scissors."

"No!" Yuri huffed, letting the package fall into his lap.

"Right." Viktor scooped his brother back into his arms and carried him to the kitchen.

"Hey, Kolya," Viktor murmured as he put his brother down in his booster seat.

"Hello," Nikolai mumbled, glancing as Viktor leaned past him to grab a pair of scissors.

"Grandpa, grandpa! Viktor got me something for my birthday!" 

Viktor bent over his screaming brother and started cutting through the package cautiously. 

"Yuri," Viktor chided, brushing the child's fingers out of the way. "Yuri, keep your fingers out of the way or you won't get to see your present."

Yuri pouted and pulled his hands into his lap.

"Okay, go at it, tiger." Viktor grinned, leaving the package just intact enough so that Yuri could tear at it.

Yuri scowled and he dug through the package, eventually freeing the items inside.

"No..." Yuri mumbled. "This..." Yuri raised the skates in the air. "SKATES!" Yuri screamed. 

"LEOPARD PRINT SKATE GUARDS, YES!" 

"You're welcome," Viktor muttered over the cacophony.

Viktor took this moment to slip out of the kitchen and stow his bag away in his room. He pulled out his earnings for the night and sat on his bed, counting the notes quickly. He split the wad of cash in approximately half and walked over to a picture frame hanging on the wall.

His own longing smile was reflected against the glass of the frame, but unable to match his toothy grin in the photo itself. Everyone was smiling, Yuri, Mum, Andrei and the grumpy Nikolai himself. Viktor pushed the frame aside gently, revealing the little alcove in the wall behind it. He tucked half the cash in and pulled out a little notebook. 

"Viktor!" Yuri screamed from downstairs.

"I'm coming! Give me a second!" Viktor leaned against the wall and quickly scribbled some numbers into the notebook before snapping it shut and chucking it back into its hiding place. 

He slid the other half of the bills into his pocket and replaced the photo frame on the wall. He jogged back downstairs to his waiting brother.

"Do you like your present?"

"I guess," Yuri mumbled, clutching the skates close to his chest.

"Oh, you don't love it? That's a shame, I had lessons lined up too." Viktor teased.

"No!" Yuri screeched, tugging at his brother's pant leg.

"Come on, dinner you two or we're never going to go to bed," Nikolai grunted.

"You heard dedushka. Put your skates down."

"No," Yuri whined, clutching his skates closer as he brushed by Nikolai and passed into the kitchen.

Viktor paused, pulling the money out of pocket and holding it out to Nikolai. This awkwardness never got old. 

"This should be enough for the week."

Nikolai eyed the money dubiously before taking it.

"More than enough." Nikolai weighed the money in his hand before slipping it into his pocket and removing an envelope. "Viktor we need to talk."

Viktor paled. It was a letter from his school, probably notifying Nikolai of his numerous absences in the last few months.

"Please, can it wait? It's Yura's birthday." Viktor made the best puppy face he could pull together.

It seemed to work as Nikolai conceded. "Fine, but we are talking about this tomorrow."

Viktor nodded before stepping into the kitchen.

 

After dinner and cake, everyone was more than ready to turn in for the night. Yuri had already brushed his teeth and sat in bed, waiting for his brother to tuck him in.

Yuri pulled the covers up to his chin.

"Yura?"

"Mm?"

"I have one more thing for you." Viktor bent over and removed the stuffed tiger from its covering.

"Oooh," Yuri reached out, making grabby hands for the toy.

"Yura, I need you to listen to me."

Yuri sighed and nodded, bringing his arms back down beside his body.

"I know you probably don't want to hear this, but I'm gonna get busier. I'm not gonna be around as often and I know it's gonna suck. I probably won't be home early enough to tuck you in like usual." Viktor pressed the toy against his brother's face gently.

"Okay," Yuri muttered, his voice small as if he were trying to hold back tears.

"I know you're strong, but if you ever feel lonely you can talk to your tiger here, okay?"

Yuri nodded, pressing his face into the fur of the tiger.

"Good and make sure you listen to dedushka when he asks you to do something."

Yuri nodded again. 

Viktor leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the boy's forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too," Yuri mumbled as he pulled Viktor into a hug.

Viktor pulled back and ruffled his brother's hair.

"You'll always be my favourite tiger."

 

* * *

 

Present time,

 

Yuuri groaned and reached out with his arms, his hands patting at otherwise cold, empty space beside him. He cracked open an eye, immediately regretting his life as blinding light poured right in. He moaned and buried his face in the rough carpet. After a moment he flipped back over and sat up, appreciating the mess he was in. That was right, last night he hadn’t even left Viktor’s side. In the end, he’d asked Phichit to grab them a blanket and they’d ended up sleeping sprawled on the floor. Viktor hadn’t woken up, but had cried a few times in his sleep. 

It was jarring, that is, all the surprises and contradictions that are Viktor Nikiforov. Most of all, that behind those eyes, matching the icy blue of a glacier, was someone so profoundly human. Yuuri scoffed to himself, but what else could he be? An alien? A celestial being? That last one wouldn’t be surprising seeing as how beautiful the man was as he cried, his tears like small, glimmering diamonds upon a flawless canvas.

Yuuri rolled his shoulders and rolled himself onto his knees, then his feet. He bundled the blanket up and tossed it onto the bed before making his way out into the kitchen. Usually, Viktor would whip something up if he woke up and wrap it up and leave it for Yuuri, who’d usually wake up later. Yuuri walked to the living room, following the familiar buzz of the TV. Yuuri paused on the threshold, about to question why Viktor had all the blinds shut and was cooped up in the dark when Phichit tugged on his sleeve.

"Come with me," Phichit uttered in a hushed whisper.

Yuuri nodded and followed his friend back to their room and sat on Yuuri's bed.

"Okay, why is Viktor sitting in the living room with all the blinds down?"

"I was going to ask you that. He's been sitting there watching since I woke up. Actually, I think he was more than an hour in when I woke up. He's literally been sitting there since, I don't know, 5 in the morning? Maybe earlier."

Yuuri gnawed on his lip. "I don't know what's happening."

"He's watching, but his brains not. He looks dead inside man."

"I'm sure it'll be okay. He probably just needs a few days."

"Yuuri, he hasn't eaten either."

"...What?" Yuuri blinked.

Viktor never started the day without eating, always proclaimed it was a habit Yuuri needed to get into. That was why he got into the habit of cooking breakfast for everyone.

"Mayb-"

The two men flinched at the sound of blinds being drawn and the TV switched off.

"Yuuri? Phichit?"

"Uh, yes?" Both of them squeaked from their room.

There was the sound of footsteps padding towards their room. "Isn't it time to go to work?"

"Uh, yeah. I'll just get dressed," Yuuri replied, glancing at Phichit.

Phichit shrugged. "I guess he's up."

Yuuri rolled off his bed and pulled his shirt off.

"Could you heat me up something?"

"Do we even have anything in the fridge?"

Yuuri reached for his uniform and tugged the shirt onto his shoulders.

"What do you mean 'do we have anything in the fridge?'" Yuuri kicked off his sweatpants.

"Literally, do we ever have any leftovers in the fridge? With Viktor being all fresh cooking and shit."

Yuuri shrugged.

"Kay, I'll find something." Phichit excused himself from the room to go find some breakfast.

 

Five minutes later Yuuri lumbered into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Yuuri." Viktor smiled and looked up from his newspaper.

Yuuri tried to smile back, but it came off as more of a wince. Viktor's smile didn't reach his eyes either, it was so goddamn fake. 

"Yuuri," Phichit urged.

Yuuri flinched. "Huh?"

"Coffee." Phichit pressed a steaming cup into his hands.

"Ah, thanks."

"And a donut. Breakfast."

"Uh, thanks."

"We're leaving."

Yuuri blinked. "O...Okay."

 

As they piled into the back seat of their car Yuuri yawned into the crook of his arm.

"Sorry, did I keep you up last night?" Viktor smiled apologetically.

"I..It's okay." Yuuri shrugged. "I'm pretty used to the late nights anyway. You doing alright?"

"Yeah, perfect." Viktor smiled again before turning to look out the window.

Yuuri narrowed his eyes at the back turned to him. It was just like the start all over again, that perfectly crafted mask. It wasn't nearly enough to throw Yuuri off, he could see the hurt between the tiny cracks. 

 

Later at the precinct,

 

A knocked reverberated around the room. Viktor sighed and leaned over Yuuri's sleeping frame to open the door.

"Hello," he whispered.

"Oh, hey, is Yuuri napping?" Phichit asked, slipping into the room.

"Yeah."

Yuuri let out a short snore, moving his face so he was resting on his elbows instead of the table and facing Viktor.

"Well, that's alright, we won't need him for this." Phichit handed over the letter that he was holding in his hand.

"What's this?" Viktor unfolded the sheet carefully.

"It was left at the last warehouse we raided. We were wondering if you could read it."

Viktor glanced over the letter, bringing it up so it was right in front of his face. He was hoping Phichit would not see the colour drain straight from his carefully placed facade. It was a coded letter in Russian. He knew this handwriting like the back of his hand, after all, he'd exchanged many letters with Crispino over the years.

 

"So, Viktor, what does it say? It's in Russian isn't it?"

Viktor lowered the letter to the table slowly and folded it up once again.

"I don't know. It's in Russian, but it's complete gibberish. A code probably." Viktor smiled apologetically. "Sorry I couldn't be of more help. I'll give you the rough English translation if that's what you need."

Phichit nodded. "Thanks anyway."

"No problem. I'm gonna go to the bathroom, I'll be back."

Phichit nodded and watched as Viktor slipped out of the room.

"Viktor is hiding something." 

Phichit nearly jumped out of his seat, turning to see Yuuri staring at him, a troubled expression on his face.

"Y...Yuuri? How long have you been awake?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> You may have heard that Australia, which is where I live coincidentally enough, is in the midst of a postal survey on same sex marriage. I’m not old enough to vote myself, but I wish I could. Just a curious note.
> 
> If you enjoyed please drop some comments and kudos. Follow and bookmark if you're looking forward to more!


	30. Watch for the Sound of Rustling Leaves

_Last Chapter..._

 

_"So, Viktor, what does it say? It's in Russian isn't it?"_

_Viktor lowered the letter to the table slowly and folded it up once again._

_"I don't know. It's in Russian, but it's complete gibberish. A code probably." Viktor smiled apologetically. "Sorry I couldn't be of more help. I'll give you the rough English translation if that's what you need."_

_Phichit nodded. "Thanks anyway."_

_"No problem. I'm gonna go to the bathroom, I'll be back."_

_Phichit nodded and watched as Viktor slipped out of the room._

_"Viktor is hiding something."_

_Phichit nearly jumped out of his seat, turning to see Yuuri staring at him, a troubled expression on his face._

* * *

 

"Y...Yuuri? How long have you been awake?"  
"Just since you came in."  
"Ah, what was that about Viktor hiding something?"  
"He read the message, he just doesn't want us to know what's in it. Have cryptography rush it, could be something time sensitive."  
Phichit pressed his lips into a taut line.  
"Why would he need to hide something from us? Is he planning something?" Phichit narrowed his eyes.  
"I doubt it. He looked...scared." Yuuri fidgeted with the sleeve of his uniform. "If I didn't know any better I would say that he just read a threat letter."

In the bathroom Viktor leaned against the washbasin, splashing warm water against his face. He glanced up at his own face in the mirror, the telling bags under his otherwise bright blue eyes. He hadn't slept properly in days, he was exhausted and still, the words echoed in his mind.

"I will find your brother and I will kill him, don't think that that meddling piglet is safe either. I promise I won't stop until all those who are dear to you, as rare as they are, are dead. You have my word.

Yours Truly,  
Sara Crispino," it had read.

"I am so fucking tired," Viktor groaned, rubbing his eyes.

* * *

 

Back at the safehouse that evening,

Viktor sat at the kitchen table, poring through the pile of documents in front of him that were stacked as high as his head.  
“Viktor, dinner?” Yuuri asked as he dug through the fridge.  
“Nah, I’m good. Eat without me.”  
“O...okay.”  
Yuuri whipped up some instant noodles for him and Phichit, too tired to do much else. When he was done he carried the noodles to Phichit who was settled on the couch re-watching (for the hundredth time) The King and the Skater.  
“Is Viktor still working?” Phichit asked absently as he separated the disposable chopsticks.  
“Yep.”  
“Should we be worried?”  
“I don’t know.” Yuuri slouched down onto the couch beside his friend.  
If Phichit had watched this movie a hundred times than Yuuri had been with him on at least 50 of those occasions, so he wasn’t really paying attention, his mind was elsewhere. Probably in the kitchen sitting in front of ridiculously high stacks of paper.  
“Yuuri.”  
“Mm?”  
“Your phone is vibrating like crazy.”  
“Oh, whoops, I must’ve switched it to silent somehow.”  
Yuuri fished his phone out of his pocket and jammed it between his shoulder and ear.  
“Moshi moshi.”  
“Fucking hell, Yuuri! Why haven’t you been picking up?” Smith all but screamed into Yuuri’s ear.  
“I’m sorry, my phone was on sile-“  
“Minako is at your fucking doorstep!”  
Phichit seemed to hear him because he leapt off the couch and looked at Yuuri in complete panic.  
“Hide in our room!” Yuuri hissed.  
Phichit dashed off like a terrified hamster and a moment later the sound of their bedroom door slamming shut and the doorbell ringing echoed through the house.  
“Fuck,” Yuuri groaned, putting his noodles down on the coffee table.  
He smoothed down his clothes and combed his fingers through his hair, hoping he didn’t look like something had nearly set him off on a panic attack. Yuuri took a deep breath then opened the door with a flourish.

“Minako, hi.”  
“Heeey, you look like shit.”  
So much for not looking like shit.  
“I’m doing good, thanks, and yourself?” Yuuri laughed sarcastically.  
Minako laughed. “Can I come in?”  
“Yeah, of course.” Yuuri glanced behind him down the corridor to where he knew Phichit was hiding.  
“Is Viktor home?”  
Yuuri’s eyes scanned over the living his room, his body freezing in alarm. Phichit’s phone, right out in the fucking open on the coffee table. There was no way Minako wouldn’t recognise it, not with that bright pink hamster-covered case he’s had for years.  
“Oh, uh, Viktor?” Yuuri stepped forward as calmly as he could and swiped Phichit’s phone off the table as he pretended to reach for his instant noodles.  
“Yeah, is he home?”  
“Oh, uh, yeah.” Yuuri groaned internally.  
“Yuuri, are you eating instant noodles and watching the King and The Skater?”  
“Uh, maybe?”  
“You know, if I didn’t know any better I’d say that Phichit lived here, the little shit can’t cook to save his life.”  
Yuuri swallowed audibly. “What an idiot, huh?” Yuuri laughed nervously. Fuck he sounds stupid.  
“You’re better than this, Yuuri.” Minako swatted at his arms and dragged him into the kitchen.  
“Uh...”  
“Holy shit.” Minako’s eyes widened at the papers covering the table and benchtop.  
“Yeah, it’s a bit of a mess right now.” Yuuri scratched the back of his head.  
“No kidding. Wait, is that Viktor!”  
Viktor was, in fact, sleeping face down on a pile of papers. It could not possibly be comfortable in any way.  
“He’s been working really hard lately,” Yuuri sighed. It wasn’t a lie.  
Minako covered her mouth to try and stop the giggles. “I can’t stop laughing. That’s so adorable.”  
Viktor jerked awake, sat ramrod straight in his seat and rubbed his eyes before picking up his highlighter and taking the lid off. The other two beings in the kitchen watched in silent surprise.

  
“Viktor,” Yuuri sighed.  
“Oh, Yuuri? Is something up?” Viktor replied, not looking up from his papers.  
“We have a guest.”  
Viktor looked up slowly.  
“Oh, Minako...”  
The older woman burst out laughing. “Oh my god, he didn’t even notice us. Jeez! He’s more of a workaholic than you, Yuuri!”  
Yuuri didn’t even look slightly entertained by this notion.  
“Anyway, the whole reason why I’m here is that I have the night off so I thought I’d invite you two over for dinner since Yuuri was about to eat the devil’s spawn of food and Viktor-“  
Viktor stomach growled loudly in the silent kitchen.  
“-hasn’t eaten.”  
“Sounds good, right Viktor? You need a break anyway.”  
“Solnyshko, I’m fine, really,” Viktor whined.  
“You were sleeping over your work.” Yuuri crosses the kitchen in a few steps and stood in front of the other man, squeezing his cheek. “And you’ve got pen on your face.” Yuuri rubbed at a spot on his cheek.  
Viktor gasped. “Do I? Ugh, okay, fine. I’ll go clean up quickly and then we’ll go for dinner.”  
"You can meet Vicchan too, he's back right, Minako?"  
"Oh yeah."  
Viktor gasped. "I can't believe I forgot! He was with a sitter last time wasn't he?"  
"Yeah."  
Viktor was practically vibrating on the spot as he stood. "I'll be quick."  
Minako waited till Viktor left the room.  
“There wasn’t ink on his face, was there?”  
Yuuri shrugged. “He needs to take a break and he hasn’t been sleeping well.”  
Minako chuckled. “Man, if you listened to the advice you give other people.”  
“Oh shut up, Minako,” Yuuri grumbled, elbowing the older woman in the ribs.

* * *

 

The moment they arrived at Minako's, Vicchan came sniffing out into the living room, making a beeline for Viktor.  
"Hello beautiful," Viktor cooed, accepting Vicchan's slobbery kisses.  
"He likes you."  
"He's so cute and fluffy." Viktor rolled around on the floor cuddling the affectionate poodle.  
"So, I'm guessing Viktor is a dog guy," Minako chuckled.  
"How'd you know?" Yuuri deadpanned, a fond smile on his face.  
"I love you!" Viktor crowed, hugging the dog closely. "Don't tell Yuuri, he might get jealous."  
"Viktor, you are too much."

Later that night,

“Drinking Jenga.” Minako grinned.  
“No-“ Yuuri started.  
“Yes!” Viktor crowed.  
Minako pulled out the box.  
“What shall be our liquor of choice tonight, gentlemen?”  
“What’s the heaviest thing you’ve got?”  
“Drinking away your sorrows, Viktor?”  
“Maybe.” Viktor smiled and snuggled closer to Yuuri.  
“Okay take it easy, I don’t want to be super hungover tomorrow,” Yuuri sighed.  
Yuuri leaned over and helped Minako stack the tiles. He let out a little yelp when Viktor pulled him into his lap, wrapping a firm arm around his waist.  
“V...Viktor!” Yuuri whined.  
“What? It’s cold.” Viktor nuzzled against Yuuri’s neck.  
“That tickles!”  
“You’re warm.”  
Minako rolled her eyes. “Okay you two, stop being goddamn saps and let’s get started.”  
“Okay, okay.”  
“Yuuri goes first,” Viktor chimes.  
“Kay.” Yuuri pulls out the first tile.  
“What does it say?”  
Yuuri groaned. “Drink one for every person playing the game.”  
Yuuri dragged the large bottle of beer over and poured himself a glass. After letting out a long-suffering sigh he took 3 huge sips.  
“That’s the way!” Viktor crowed.  
“Okay, Viktor next.”

  
Viktor grinned and took the next tile.  
He grinned at the tile before reading it out loud. “Kiss the most beautiful person in the room.”  
“Oh geez. This is too easy for you," Minako grumbled.  
Yuuri buried his face in the crook of Viktor’s shoulder.  
“Aww, Solnyshko, how’d you know who I’d choose?”  
Yuuri let out a string of muffled words into Viktor’s shoulder.  
“Mm, can’t kiss you like this darling.”  
Yuuri sighed and lifted his bright red face away from Viktor’s shoulder.  
“Can I?”  
Yuuri shifted his gaze from the floor to meet Viktor’s gaze.  
“You’re gonna ask now?” Yuuri drawled, his body language shifting, a teasing smile on his face.  
“Yuuuuuri~” Viktor whispered, leaning forward to press their lips together.  
Yuuri tangled his fingers in Viktor’s hair and deepened the kiss.  
“Right stop, you guys can make out later.”  
Yuuri pulled away from Viktor, who let out a whine of impatience, choosing instead to bury his face in Yuuri’s shoulder as they came back to the game.  
“Your turn, Minako,” Yuuri smirked.  
Minako leaned forward and took another piece out of the tower.  
"Uh, drink 2."  
"Fuck, that's boring," Viktor groaned.  
"Yuuri, your turn."  
"Okay."  
Yuuri took another piece out.  
"Take one item of clothing off. Really?" Yuuri pulled his sweater over his head. "Easy."

5 'take one item of clothing off' cards, 6 'drinks ones', 4 'everyone drinks one', several 'drink threes' and 3 'everyone drinks a whole cup' cards later....

"Yuuuuuuurrrriiiiii~" Viktor, who was completely naked except for his underwear, whined as he pressed a kiss against Yuuri's neck.  
"Vitya! That tickles!" Yuuri giggled drunkenly, nearly falling out of Viktor's lap.  
"Oh my god, we're so *hiccup* wasted." Minako gripped the beer bottle by the neck and took a long swig.  
"M...Minako-sensei, stop." Yuuri pulled the bottle from her grasp, only for Viktor to steal it from him and take a sip.  
"Viktor, your turn!"  
Viktor leaned forward and punched the tower, sending all the little pieces of wood crashing down.  
"Whoopsies."  
"Viktor loses!" Minako raised her glass in a toast.  
"Loser kisses the most beautiful person in the room," Viktor declared, pouting and looking at Yuuri expectantly.  
Yuuri laughed and kissed the other man without reserve, groaning as they melted into one big mess.  
"Okay, guys, it's getting late. We should turn in for the night." She sighed. "If you could stop making out for one moment?"  
Yuuri grumbled and pulled away from Viktor.  
"You guys gonna stay the night? Coz neither of you look like you're gonna make it home."  
Yuuri nodded. "If that's ‘kay with you?"  
"Yeah, of course."  
"O...okay, I'll take the couch. The guest bed is a single no way in hell we're both fitting on that."  
"But Yuuri!" Viktor whined, clinging to the other man desperately. "I don't want to be separated from you."  
Yuuri giggled. "It's okay, I'll still be here in the morning. V...Viktor, please put some clothes on."  
"Clothes is overrated," Viktor grumbled as he pulled his pants back on, nearly falling over in the process.  
"I got you." Yuuri held the older man's hand to help him balance, watching as his blues eye went wide with adoration.  
"I love you, Yuuri!" He squealed as he pulled Yuuri into a bear hug.  
Yuuri pulled his phone out, letting Viktor continue to drape himself off Yuuri’s back like a cape as he dragged him towards the guest bedroom.  
"Yuuri?" Phichit's sleep-addled voice came across the line.  
"Yo bro."  
"Are you drunk?"  
"MinakowantedtoplaydrinkingjengasoIdranklotsandViktorisreallydrunkrightnowandI'mjustalittledrunkbutwewon'tbecominghometonightsodon'twaitupyeahiloveyou."  
"Okay, uh, you're going to have to repeat that again, I'm sorry. I think the only thing I understood was that you and Viktor are hammered."  
Yuuri huffed out a laugh. "Y...you are hilarious, you know that?"  
"Tell me about it. Okay, concentrate drunk Yuuri."  
"Okay. Vik and I ain't c...coming home."  
"Okay, cool. I'll see you tomorrow then."  
“Mmmkaaay! Goodnight Phichit-kun, I love you.”  
“Love you too, buddy.”  
Yuuri ended the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket, narrowly missing just dropping it on the floor.  
“Kay, bed,” Yuuri grunted, dragging Viktor the last few steps up the stairs and to the bedroom.  
Viktor groaned as he collapsed face first into the mattress. “Yuuri?”  
“Yeah?”  
Viktor turned till he was on his side facing Yuuri. “I love you.”  
“Okay,” Yuuri laughed, letting Viktor lace their fingers together.  
For a moment the Russian seemed a lot more sober. “Tell me you love me, Yuuri.”  
“Aishiteru, Viktoru,” Yuuri whispered, but Viktor was already fast asleep.

* * *

 

Viktor groaned and sat up.  
“My head...is killing me.”  
He rolled off the bed and padded towards the bathroom, hoping he’d wake no one in the process. It was the dead of night. Viktor paused at the staircase, he could’ve sworn he’d heard something downstairs, or rather something compelled him to check. Viktor’s heart hammered in his ears as he came to a stop at the threshold of the living room. Written in bloody red letters across the wall:  
“An eye for an eye, or maybe two.”  
Two other figures stood in the living room, staring at the words, one turning to look at Viktor.  
“Oh, hey Viktor,” Yuuri murmured, a small smile on his face.  
Yuuri’s shirt was soaked in blood across his chest and blood dripped down his limp arms and onto the carpet.  
“Yuuri!” Viktor choked, diving across the room as Yuuri’s body went limp and hit the ground with a thud.  
“Yuuri, Yuuri stay with me!” Viktor pressed his hand against the wound trying to stem the blood that spilt out between his fingers.  
“Yuuri, please!”  
“This is all your fault you know.”  
Viktor froze and looked up at the second figure.  
“Y....Yura?”  
“It was your fault,” Yuri repeated, tossing the hood of his leopard printed jacket off.  
Viktor was choking on air, every breath coming out in a strangled wheezed. His eyes were glued to the angry purple welts that ran around his brother’s neck before the teen collapsed.  
“No no no no, please, Yuri,” Viktor keened, reaching out with one hand to check the boy’s pulse.  
He was cold and there was nothing. His lips were blue and eyes glassy, just like Yuuri. Viktor reached out and pressed a bloody hand against the teen’s cheek.  
“He wouldn’t be dead if it weren’t for you.”  
Viktor slowly turned his head to look at Yuuri. He was dead, but his lips kept moving.  
“It’s all your fault,” Yuri echoed.  
“If you were dead Crispino would not have come after us.”  
“Please, stop,” Viktor sobbed, as trying to cover his ears did nothing to make the voices go away.  
“If you were dead...“  
“All your fault.”  
“I hate you.”  
“It’s your fault.”  
“Maybe you should just kill yourself.”  
“All your goddamn fault.”  
Viktor wrapped himself in a tight ball and howled like a child in distress.  
“I’m so sorry, Yuuri.”  
“Maybe you should do us all a favour.”  
Viktor reached for Yuuri’s gun, slowly dragging it up to his temple.  
“Viktor!” A voice echoed in the distance.  
“I’m sorry, Yuuri,” Viktor whispered, finger ready against the trigger.

“Viktor, you have to wake up!” Minako shook the younger man with all her might.  
He’d been screaming and thrashing for at least 5 minutes.  
“Vik-“  
In a flurry of movement, the man awoke suddenly yanking her down and pinning her to the mattress under him, one hand around her throat and the other pressing what felt like cool metal against her neck. His cold blue eyes bore down into her, his lips drawn into a ferocious smile.  
“V...Viktor...” she choked.  
Viktor flinched, blinking as he released his grip on her and looked down at his own hands.  
“Oh my god,” he gasped as he scrambled away from her.  
He tossed the pen in his hand onto the floor and curled up in a ball.  
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered as he wiped at his face.  
“V...Viktor, are you okay?”  
Viktor held his hands up in front of his face. He could still see the blood, their blood.  
“I’m gonna be sick,” Viktor hissed as he jumped off the bed and sprinted to the bathroom, nearly missing the toilet bowl.  
Minako quietly waited for him to finish heaving before speaking.  
“Sorry, I should know better than to have woken you up like that.”  
“No, no it’s okay. I should be asking if you’re alright.” Viktor looked down at his hands again.  
“I’m okay.”  
“That’s good.” Viktor walked over to the sink and started scrubbing at his hands.  
He could still see the blood. He could smell it.  
“Viktor?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Are you okay?”  
“Me?” Viktor wiped at the tears bubbling down his face. “I am just fine.”  
“I had an uncle who was in the wars you know, after he came back, he never really quite slept the same. Yuuri as well.”  
Viktor laughed bitterly. “So you’re saying you understand what I’ve been through?”  
“No, but you’re distressed.”  
“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” Viktor slumped against the wall and covered his eyes with his arm. “It was just a really bad nightmare, I’ll be alright.”  
Minako nodded. “You want some aspirin for the hangover?”  
Viktor groaned, pressing his head against the cool tiles. “Yes, please.”  
Minako riffled through the draw eventually finding what she was looking for and filled up a glass of water.  
“Ah thanks,” Viktor murmured before popping the pills into the back of his throat.  
The older woman watched him with a cautious eye. “You’re not just a translator, are you?”  
“Oh geez, what gave me away?” Viktor huffed jokingly.  
“I don’t think I’ve met a translator who uses a pen the same way you do.”  
Viktor cringed. “I’m still sorry about that.”  
Minako shrugged. “It’s okay, Yuuri’s done the exact same thing.”  
“Sometimes I forget you raised him.”  
“It was only a few years, not really his formative ones either. Anyway, what are you?”  
“A translator.”  
“Haha, very funny. What were you? SWAT? Special forces of some kind?”  
“Does it matter now? I’m just a humble translator.”  
“Yeah, humble my ass.”  
The two broke out in good-natured laughter before lapsing into silence once again.  
“Does Yuuri know?”  
Viktor nods solemnly. It wasn’t that far from the truth.  
“Please, don’t tell Yuuri about tonight though. He has enough problems of his own to worry about to have my problems on top of his.”  
“You know, those are the kind of thoughts that get Yuuri stuck in his own head.”  
Viktor opened his mouth as if to say something, but instead turned and glared at the ground.  
“Yuuri is an idiot,” Minako chuckled, “and so are you it would seem.”  
“Doesn’t mean I’d love him any less,” Viktor whispered as if it were a secret between the two of them.  
“And you don’t think Yuuri would feel the same way?”  
Viktor’s head whipped up, his eyes darting to meet Minako’s.  
“Don’t act so surprised, Viktor. The kid acts like the sun shines out of your ass.”  
Viktor muffled a laugh against his hands.  
“Look at you, your ears are getting red,” Minako teased, reaching out and twisting Viktor’s ear.  
“Ow, oh my god, mercy, please. Is this how you treat sick people?”  
“Just family.”  
Viktor’s eyes widened, the dull throbbing in his head replaced by clarity. Family, huh?  
“You’re Yuuri’s partner. So we’re all family and we’re all allowed to worry about each other, but we’ve got to talk about it. Hell, I’m worried about Yuuri too. He got stabbed and then...”  
“Kidnapped?” Viktor let out a long-suffering sigh.  
“Please, just don’t bottle anything up.”  
Viktor physically waved off her concern.  
“I’m fine-“  
“You were screaming his name in a nightmare, I don’t need to be a detective to figure it out.”  
“Oh god, did I wake you up?”  
“No, I was already up.”  
Viktor groaned. “Sorry anyway.”  
“Don’t apologise.”  
At that moment Vicchan nosed his way into the bathroom and straight into Viktor’s lap.  
“Hey boy,” Viktor murmured, burying his face in the chocolate locks of the dog.  
“Vicchan has a knack for knowing when people need a hug.”  
Viktor nodded and smiled as Vicchan lapped at his face.  
“Like dog like owner.”  
“You feeling better?”  
“Instantly, though a hug from Yuuri would be preferable.”  
Minako laughed. “Think you’re up to going back to bed?”  
Viktor shrugged. “I doubt I’ll get any sleep.”  
“I’ll make you some tea, it might help.”  
“You’re the best.” Viktor grinned, bracing himself against the wall as he stood.

Ten minutes later Viktor was leaning against the wall just on the threshold between the kitchen and living room, a steaming cup of tea in his hands.  
"Bastard sleeps like a log," Minako chuckled, watching Yuuri's sleeping form.  
"That he does." Viktor reached down to scratch Vicchan behind the ears.  
Viktor took a few steps towards Yuuri, kneeling in front of him. He brushed a few loose strands of hair away from his face, revealing the peaceful smile on his face. Viktor leaned his arms on the couch and stared at the sleeping man's face. A blush crawled across Viktor's face. Not creepy at all goddamnit. Vicchan whined and pawed gently at his side, tongue lapping at the blush on Viktor's cheek.  
"God, aren't you precious," Viktor cooed as he bundled the poodle into his arms and closed his eyes.  
God, he missed Makkachin.  
A few minutes later Minako washed out her cup and padded into the living room to see that Viktor was already sound asleep.  
“They say that we’re attracted to people who are as broken as we are, so I do wonder how deep your scars run, Viktor,” Minako whispered as she tossed a blankly around Viktor’s shoulders.

* * *

 

St Petersburg,

"Chris? We're home," Yuri called into the quietness of the house.  
The sounds of something clicking against the wooden boards dashed towards them from the darkness. Otabek squinted, a hand drifting over the gun pressed against his hip.  
Yuri’s eyes widened, his arms opening instinctively as the canine galloped towards him.  
“Makkachin?!-OOF!” Yuri hit the ground with a groan, the poodle yipping happily as he pressed slobbery kisses all over the young man’s face.  
“Guess he missed you.” Otabek shrugged, picking up Yuri’s bag and heading right up the stairs.  
“Don’t fucking leave me to die, I thought we were friends, Altin!”  
“Welcome home, Yuri.”  
“Don’t fucking talk from the shadows Chris, it’s creepy.”  
“Sorry.” The man stepped out into the light of the hallway, a tired smile on his face. “I heard Otabek told you about your brother’s situation.”  
“He did.” Yuri propped himself up on his elbows.  
“Well, if it’s any consolation, I was never planning on telling you.”  
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” the teen hissed.  
“I had clear instructions from your brother not to tell you, but leave it to Otabek here to ignore his orders.” Chris shrugged.  
“So you were waiting for Beka to tell me?” Yuri scrunched up his brows in confusion.  
“Maybe.” Chris winked, his telltale teasing grin on his face.  
“Okay, now you’re just being a slippery bastard on purpose. So, what’s Makkachin doing here?”  
“He arrived in Russia a few months ago. You know your brother, so extra, he had arrangements in case something happened that meant Makkachin would’ve had a sitter in the US for 6 months.”  
“Leave it to Viktor to plan out every last detail for his dog.” Otabek sighed, returning back down the staircase. “But that doesn’t account for the last 3 months.”  
Yuri pulled Makkachin closer. “You must’ve been lonely without Viktor,” he whispered, combing his fingers through the poodle's fur.  
“I couldn’t bring him back here because, you know, Yuri would’ve figured it out.”  
“So, where’s he been?”  
“Switzerland with Stephane for a few months, but even he is a busy man so I thought I’d bring him back to Saint Petersburg. I’d left him with Masumi for a while, and that was before I realised my darling was allergic to dogs.”  
“And now Makkachin is here,” Otabek finished.  
Chris scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I’ll figure something out, but in the meantime, he’ll have to stay-“  
“Of course he can stay!” Yuri blurted.  
“I thought you hated dogs?”  
“I do. But...Makkachin isn’t like...a dog.”  
Otabek snickered. “Of course.”  
“Shut up! I know Makkachin is a shitty dog, but he’s always gotten along with Potya so he’s not really a dog," Yuri bristled.  
“I am going to pretend like I understand this logic and go ahead and ask who’s going to be looking after him? We’re all cat people,” Chris pointed out.  
“Shotgun taking him for walks.” Yuri piped in first.  
“Shotgun feeding and water,” Otabek added quietly.  
“Wait, what's left for me then?”  
Otabek and Yuri glanced at each other, grinning.  
“Oh, just the usual shit.” Otabek held a hand over his shoulder.  
Yuri high-fived the taller boy without even looking and snorted, “probably some piss too.”  
“Oh fuck you both,” Chris grumbled.  
“I’m gonna go take a shower.” Otabek turned and jogged back upstairs.  
Yuri turned to follow him when Chris cleared his throat and stuck an arm out, blocking his way.  
“A word?”  
“What?” Yuri scowled, crossing his arms.  
“You’re not grounded anymore-“  
“Fuck yes!”  
“B-b-b-b-but.”  
Yuri’s face fell immediately.  
“No parties, no alcohol, no drugs. Nada. Best behaviour. Hear me?”  
“Chris, I don’t even do drugs-“  
“If you want to drink or do drugs then you’ve gotta do it at home, where we can keep an eye on you.”  
“Chris, puhlease.” Yuri stuck his hand in Chris’ face. “Shut up for a second.”  
Chris pulled his fingers across his lips in a zipping motion and nodded.  
“I’m not gonna drink and do drugs, like ever.” Yuri pulled his voice down to a whisper. “Especially not around Beka.”  
Chris let out a long sigh. “You don’t have to worry about him. He works at a nightclub he isn’t going to relapse. It has been how many years? 8 years?”  
Yuri jabbed a finger into his chest. “It’s not fair on him either way.”  
“Drinking is alright though? I’m sure Altin doesn’t want you to feel like you can’t do your normal teenage thing.”  
Yuri rolled his eyes. “Maybe I don’t want to drink myself silly like a certain brother of mine either.”  
“Fair enough. God aren’t you a responsible little fucker.” Chris reached out and ruffled his hair.  
Yuri hissed and slapped his hand away. “Shut the fuck up.”  
The teenager snaked out of Chris’ grasp and darted up the stairwell.  
“Oh, and Yuri?”  
“What?”  
“Do me a favour, when you take Makkachin for her walks, could you take Otabek with you?”  
It was much less a favour than a plea.  
Yuri pulled his lips into a thin line. “Yeah, I will.” Yuri turned and clicked his fingers at Makkachin. “Come on, boy, let’s go chill in my room, we can play with Potya too.”  
Makkachin barked happily and bolted up the stairs after Yuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys, firstly, badish news. You might’ve remembered that I mentioned my exams a couple weeks ago. Well, now they’re really bearing down on me and the first is only 3 ish weeks away and my second 2 weeks after that.
> 
> So sadly, I’ll have to put this fic on a semi-hiatus for an entire month T A T. This really sucks, but I don’t want to rush the writing so I thought this would be the next best option. 
> 
> In the next 4-5 weeks I’ll be posting 1 or 2 chapters, depending on how I go. Good news is: REGULAR UPDATES RESTART NOVEMBER 21ST!!!
> 
> Until then, have a great October guys! And happy YoI anniversary!!!!!!!
> 
> Honestly, ever since I got hooked to YoI I’ve had the absolute time of my life in this beautiful fandom full of lovelies like yourself! I’d never felt the compulsion and love that I do with Yuri on Ice.
> 
> Please leaves kudos and comments, I’ll keep up with comments while I’m gone!! <3


	31. Stay Close to Me (Don't go away, I'm afraid of losing you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably start by saying I’m sorry. (That’s all you’re gonna get, good luck.)

Last Chapter:

 

_"Bastard sleeps like a log," Minako chuckled, watching Yuuri's sleeping form._

_"That he does." Viktor reached down to scratch Vicchan behind the ears._

_Viktor took a few steps towards Yuuri, kneeling in front of him. He brushed a few loose strands of hair away from his face, revealing the peaceful smile on his face. Viktor leaned his arms on the couch and stared at the sleeping man's face. A blush crawled across Viktor's face. Not creepy at all goddamnit. Vicchan whined and pawed gently at his side, tongue lapping at the blush on Viktor's cheek._

_"God, aren't you precious," Viktor cooed as he bundled the poodle into his arms and closed his eyes._

_God, he missed Makkachin._

_A few minutes later Minako washed out her cup and padded into the living room to see that Viktor was already sound asleep._

_“They say that we’re attracted to people who are as broken as we are, so I do wonder how deep your scars run, Viktor,” Minako whispered as she tossed a blanket around Viktor’s shoulders._

 

* * *

 

 

The Next Morning,

 

Viktor groaned and rolled over.

"Good morning sleeping beauty."

Viktor grabbed his blanket and tugged it over his head.

"Let me sleep or I swear to god I will...kill you," Viktor mumbled.

"Mm, I don't think so."

Viktor turned his face into the softness of a pillow and grunted, "get out."

"I'm stuck."

"Then get unstuck."

"You're literally laying on top of me."

Something finally switched on in Viktor’s head, prompting him to peel an eye open.

"Yuuri?" Viktor lifted his head off the soft pillow of...Yuuri's firm chest...

"Yeah?" Yuuri scrolled absently on his phone.

“Oh.” Viktor jerked up into a sitting position, his arm slipping off the edge of the couch.

“Vik-NOPE!” Yuuri screeched as he grabbed Viktor’s wrist, sending both of them tumbling to the ground.

Viktor watched the world tumble as a pair of very alarmed amber eyes plummeted closer. He didn’t even blink as their foreheads smacked together with an audible crack and their teeth clacked together. So much for a decent first kiss.

Yuuri was the first to respond, quickly sitting up, a hand held over his mouth. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

Viktor covered his face with his arms. This was embarrassing.

“It’s okay.”

“Are you alright? Did I hit something? Does something hurt?” Yuuri asked in a panicky voice, shifting his weight forward so he was sitting on Viktor’s stomach.

Viktor is pretty sure his heart was going to slam its way out of his chest, but he settled for “my head kills, from the hangover though, not from your hard headedness.”

Viktor wasn’t even looking, but he could hear the relief in Yuuri’s voice. “Ah, I’ll get you something for that.” 

Yuuri scrambled off Viktor and scampered into the recesses of the house, leaving Viktor with his own thoughts. Viktor groaned, trying to pat the heat away from his cheeks. That was technically the first time they had ever kissed when they were sober and boy was that awkward (and terrible) and no, that time Viktor was trying to distract Yuuri so he could stab him should not count. Yuuri came back a moment later with a glass of water and some more pills.

“Here.” Yuuri gestured for him to sit up. “This should help with the headache.”

Viktor took the pills gratefully and chugged the glass of water. Yuuri settles down on the ground cross-legged and watched him curiously, looking away every time Viktor turned to face him. A flush still covered his cheek, but he didn’t seem too bothered.

“Viktor,” Yuuri started, chewing at his lips.

“Yeah?”

Yuuri sighed and kicked his legs out, falling into a forward stretch.

“You know you can tell me if something is bothering you, right?”

Viktor scoffed. “What? Did Minako snitch on me?”

Yuuri rolled his eyes as he straightened up. “She didn’t need to.”

Viktor doesn’t even bother smiling this time.

“Viktor,” Yuuri pressed a hand to Viktor’s shoulder. “If something is going on you can tell me.”

“I know,” Viktor grumbled, looking away.

“Then tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.” Viktor waved the other man off.

“Viktor, it’s my job to look after you and I can’t exactly do that when you’re not telling me anything.”

“It was just some bad nightmares, I’ll be okay. I’m fine.” (You’re safe he doesn’t say.)

Yuuri stared at him, eyes poring as if searching for the answers on his face.

Minako cleated her throat. “Sorry, I’m probably interrupting something but, breakfast?”

“Breakfast sounds great,” Viktor chirped, jumping to his feet and offering a hand to Yuuri.

“Pancakes?” Yuuri asked as he grabbed onto Viktor’s hand as leverage to haul himself up.

“Yep, the good old pre-mix.”

“Wait, Yuuri?” Viktor started out the window.

“Yeah?”

“What time is it?”

“Like, half past eleven.”

“Wait, shouldn’t we be at work?”

Yuuri giggled and shoved Viktor towards the kitchen.

“It’s okay. I already texted Celestino and told him we’d be in late.”

“And what excuse could you possibly have used?”

“We got drunk with Minako, I didn’t even have to lie.”

“And he just accepted that?” Viktor asked incredulously. “This is Celestino that we’re talking about.”

“The one and only,” Minako added, a wicked grin on her face.

“You know him?” Viktor glanced between Minako and Yuuri who were both smiling like idiots.

“The last time Minako and Celestino saw each other, Minako drank him into the ground.” 

“And here I thought Celestino would be made of tougher stuff.”

“Oh, he is,” Yuuri replied before taking a munch of his pancake. “It’s just that Minako here is made of even tougher stuff.”

Minako raised her coffee mug triumphantly. "Cheers to that." She stalked over to the TV in the corner of the kitchen.

Viktor chuckled quietly. "Does everyone around here know each other or is it just me?"

"Nah, Celestino is family I guess."

"Oi, guys, Phichit and Celestino are on the news."

"W...what?" Yuuri whipped around in his seat, his phone already out and ready.

"Huh, it is them. Is this live?" Viktor presses a finger to his lips in thought.

Yuuri shook his head. "No, I don't think so. This was recorded the other day I think."

"Huh." Viktor watched on in mild interest as Minako turned the volume up.

The staticky quality of the TV audio warped Celestino’s voice. "We've got a task force of officers cracking down on organised crime-"

A reporter interrupted, asking a question.

"On the note of cracking down on things, we should be going."

"Ah yes, crime never sleeps." Viktor stuffed the last piece of pancake into his mouth.

"You boys need a ride?" Minako sighed, putting her coffee down.

"Yeah, that'd be good."

 

* * *

  

Later at the precinct,

 

"Viktor," Yuuri sighed. "You can't wear sunglasses indoors."

"Why ever not?" Viktor adjusted his sunglasses on his nose.

"Because it spells out that you're hungover."

"So? Not like I'm trying to hide-" Viktor turned and strode off in the opposite direction, yanking Yuuri along with him.

"Viktor?"

"Phichit was walking towards us."

"Oh, yeah, nope, run. Did he have the shit-eating grin on?"

"Yes, Yuuri what on earth did you tell him?”

"Nothing!...I think..."

"Yuuri, drunk you seriously needs to-"

Phichit dashed in front of the pair.

"Good morning, boys," Phichit smirked.

"Put that smile away, Chulanont, it's too bright," Viktor moaned, slapping his hands over his eyes. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go pretend like I’m working.”

The silver-haired man shoved open the office door and slammed it shut behind him unceremoniously.

“Someone is hungover.”

Yuuri nursed his second cup of coffee for the day closer. “So am I. Why are you so chipper?”

“Well, did you get any info out of Viktor?”

“Phich-“

“AH! What a wasted opportunity. He was drunk.”

“Exactly, and so was I.”

“I thought we needed to find out what he was hiding not play Mr Nice Guy.”

“I can’t exactly interrogate him with Minako sitting right there!”

“Shh, she would’ve left you two alone if you asked.” The Thai man waggled his brows suggestively.

“Shut up, please. Viktor is a put together drunk so I wouldn’t have gotten anything out of him anyway.”

“He was drunk.” Phichit deadpanned.

“And drunk Viktor is like sober Viktor except less physically reserved. More like an octopus.” Yuuri chuckled at the image his brain conjured up of a silver octopus crushing Yuuri half to death.

“Huh. Okay, that sucks. There’ll be plenty more opportunities though.” Phichit grinned and punched Yuuri’s arm.

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Whatever, how are you going decoding the message from yesterday?”

“Well, we’ve got the team on it, no breakthroughs yet.”

Yuuri sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Patience then.”

Phichit nodded. “How is he doing in other departments?”

“Uh, he had another nightmare. So Minako woke him up and freaked out a little. But he got decent amount of sleep and he’s eating.”

“So he’s back from the dead?”

“I guess so.” Yuuri scratched the back of his head.

“Good, ‘coz we’ve got a new place to check out so you guys better have your heads screwed on straight. Well you’re not straight anyway, but you catch my flow."

Yuuri groaned and clutched his head. 

"We can't have a break, not for one day?" 

"Nope. Not from work and definitely not from me." Phichit grinned and slung an arm around Yuuri's shoulder.

"Ugh."

"Celestino!" Phichit cackled. "Let's go, Yuuri and Viktor are back."

“Wait, Phichit, one more thing.”

“Yeah, what is it, buddy?”

“I think we should trust Viktor more.”

“You’re joking right?” Phichit snorted and rolled his eyes.

Yuuri glared his best friend dead in the eyes.

"Kay, you're not joking." Phichit took a step away from his friend and stared as if Yuuri has suddenly grown two heads.

Yuuri shook his head. "Hear me out. I was thinking if we put a little more faith in him he might tell us."

Phichit let’s out a long sigh. “So you’re just gonna ask him...again?”

"I don't know, it was just an idea." Yuuri grumbled, waving his arms around.

"Chulanont, Katsuki! What are you two gossiping about over there!" Celestino bellowed, sending shivers down both men's spines.

 

* * *

 

Later,

 

"Yuuri," Viktor sighed.

"What is it?" Yuuri readjusted his vest.

"Can I come with you?" 

"Viktor-"

"Aww come on," Viktor whined. "It's not even dangerous."

"Vikto-"

"We've checked, there's no one in there."

"VIK-."

"Pleeeeease?" Viktor pouted.

"Viktor."

"Yuuri~ please. I won't get in your way." 

"If you'd shut up for one second." Yuuri grumbled, turning and bending over to grab a vest. "Then you'd let me say yes." 

Viktor yelped as Yuuri shoved a vest into his chest.

"Hurry up. Celestino isn't gonna wait forever." Yuuri turned on his heel and jumped out of the van.

 

A moment later Viktor hopped out of the van and surreptitiously shuffled till he was standing beside Phichit with all the other officers.

Phichit turned his head slowly. "Captain's a fucking grump today."

"Tell me about it," Viktor drawled.

Phichit squeaked. "Viktor? What the hell are you doing?!"

"Shhh-" Viktor squished Phichit's lips together. "Yuuri invited me."

"There's no way in hell-"

Celestino stomped a foot down in front of them, the two men yanking around to face him.

"Nikiforov."

"Yes, captain!" Viktor chirped.

"Don't act so goddamn happy, it's pissing me off," Celestino grunted, crossing his arms.

Viktor grinned and shrugged.

"All you're going to do is stick with Katsuki. That is all."

"Yes, captain."

"And Katsuki?"

"Yes, captain?"

"Shoot him if he steps one foot out of line."

Viktor smiled at this and winced as Yuuri punched his arm.

"Don't look so goddamn pleased that I might shoot you."

"Maybe he's into that kind of thing," Phichit sneered.

Yuuri held a straight face as he possibly could while blushing and elbowed Phichit. Celestino just rolled his eyes and turned away gesturing at the others.

Phichit leaned over and whispered, "he's not denying it."

Yuuri yanked his friend closer.

"We are not talking about Viktor's kinks right now," Yuuri hissed.

"So we can have this discussion later?" Phichit whispered back, winking.

"No, we are never having that discussion!"

"Move your asses!" Celestino roared. "And Chulanont, they need you back at the precinct."

"What? Kay, later alligators," Phichit chirped as he turned and skipped off back towards where their vehicles were parked.

Yuuri let out a long-suffering sigh. 

"He is such a pain in the ass."

"In a good way?" Viktor sniggered.

Yuuri turned slowly and glared. "I will shoot your ass-no foot."

"You're a feet guy, huh?"

Yuuri groaned, whipped around and kicked the back of Viktor's knees.

Viktor squeaked "ow, fuck," as his knees hit the ground. 

Yuuri smirked.

"You know exactly how to bring a guy to his knees, don't you?" Viktor looked up and grimaced.

"What the hell are you two whispering about?!" Celestino roared.

"Coming captain!" Yuuri skipped forward, casting a quick glance behind him.

Yuuri paused a few steps away. Why the hell was Viktor just staring at his back?

“Viktor?”

Viktor blinked and shook his head. “W...what?”

“Come on.” Yuuri jerked his head towards the others. “The captain is waiting.”

 

Ten Minutes later...

 

Everyone was split up into pairs to check different floors of the abandoned building. Viktor waved to the others as he and Yuuri split from them exiting the stairwell on the third floor.

“God, this place is kind of creepy, abandoned mid-construction right?” Viktor shuddered as he looked around. 

Sunlight flowed through the open walls where window panes should’ve been, but even with all the light the furthest walls remained in darkness. Wires hung down from the walls, something green growing across the cables and walls.

“Conveniently abandoned building for Crispino to conduct her business, huh?”

“Yeah, but I guess it’s ours now. What do you think, darling?” Viktor walked on ahead of Yuuri.

Yuuri cocked his head to a side. "What are you talking about?"

Viktor turned, grinned and gestured around him. “The house, silly! I quite like the view.” Viktor walked to an alcove in the wall which almost looked like a separate room. “And this should be the baby’s room.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes but decided to humour Viktor anyway.

“And what colour do you think we should paint it?”

“Glad you asked, solnyshko. Your favourite colour, I think that would be good.” Viktor grinned.

“Uhuh, and what’s my favourite colour?”

Viktor pressed a finger to his lips. “Blue?”

“Are you guessing?” He asked incredulously, his tone laced with laughter.

“Educated guess. Was I right?”

“Yeah, you were.”

"I know you too well," Viktor crooned winking at the other man.

Yuuri snorted at this. 

"Okay, okay, what's my favourite food then?"

"Katsudon. What is this, an interrogation?" Viktor laughed.

"Just seeing how much you've figured out from stalking me."

"In my defence, we've been living together for ages, it wasn't all stalking," Viktor replied in a matter of fact tone, his lips pulled into a pout.

Yuuri crossed his arms, an amused smile crossing his lips. "Okay, favourite flower?"

"How am I supposed to know this?"

"I don't know." Yuuri shrugged. "It's tulips by the way."

"Duly noted."

"I really liked the blue roses though, where'd you get them?"

"So, you remember." Viktor smiled and shrugged. "I know a guy."

"Huh, that's cool. So your favourites are roses?"

"Yeah, my mother loved blue roses in particular."

A small look of panic crossed Yuuri's face. "Sorry."

Viktor shrugged and turned back around to pad the furthest side of the room. Tucked into the corner were a small wooden table and a few chairs.

“Hey look, there’s some furniture here already too.” Viktor pulled out one of the chairs and collapsed into it.

“Check out this carpet,” Yuuri laughed sarcastically as he kicked the toe of his boot into a small pile of ash on the ground.

Viktor looked over the table, noting there was an ashtray in the centre, a still smoking butt ground into it. Wait, this cigarette was freshly extinguished.

Viktor whipped around. “Yuuri, watch out-“

Yuuri met Viktor’s terrified eyes for a brief moment before he caught the flicker of a black figure dashing towards him out of the corner of his eye. Yuuri barely had a moment to blink before a blade slashed into his arm. Yuuri stumbled back, making his best efforts at evading as he yanked his own knife out of its sheath.

“Yuuri!” Viktor’s voice was drowned out as a weight slammed into Yuuri, sending him flying into a rock hard wall.

Yuuri was acutely aware of his head connecting with the wall with a firm crack. Of all the bloody days not to wear a helmet. Yuuri let out a groan as he flopped to the ground, everything around him spinning as he screwed his eyes shut and the air was ripped from his lungs.

What felt like an eternity later, Yuuri cracked his eyes open.

“Fuck off!” Viktor hissed.

It took Yuuri’s scrambled brain a moment to fully comprehend the situation. Viktor was pinned to the wall, his every effort poured into holding a knife inches from his face. The guy, or rather monster, on the other end of the knife was at least a head taller than Viktor with shoulders broad enough to smother the both of them. Viktor’s forte was not hand to hand combat let alone against a guy double his size. Yuuri staggered to his feet and reached for his gun, noting that he couldn’t really see straight let alone shoot straight. But boy, he really needed a good shot right now. 

“Viktor, throw him off!” Yuuri rasped, bringing his gun up to eye level and attempting to steady his arms. 

If Viktor put some distance between them Yuuri might just be able to pull this off. It wasn’t like Yuuri didn’t notice that they were wrestling against a segment of wall flanked on both sides by paneless windows. 

“Do it, Viktor!”

One misstep and it was a plummet to the ground below. But it was better than getting stabbed in the face and it seemed Viktor agreed. 

It happened in the blink of an eye. Yuuri’s gun fired twice, the telltale limpness as their assailant's body started to fall. 

Just one misstep. Viktor’s eyes filled with a blank terror as his feet missed the ledge.

Yuuri’s feet tore across the concrete floor as Viktor reached for him. 

“Too far!” Yuuri’s brain screamed as he threw himself off the ledge, his hand outstretched, fingers reaching for Viktor’s.

Moments later Yuuri’s hand connected with Viktor’s and his other hand wrapped firmly around a rope hanging off the building. They both swung and smacked into the side of the building with a groan. They both pressed their faces to the concrete, taking deep breaths of air.

“Holy shit,” Yuuri breathed. “We’re alive.”

Viktor looked up at Yuuri, his face growing grave. “Not for long.”

Yuuri looked up. “Shit.”

The rope was coming apart slowly, but surely, the old rotting fibres twisting apart.

“Yuuri.”

“Oh fuck fuck shit.”

“Yuuri, drop me,” Viktor ordered calmly.

Yuuri looked down and flared, his grip on Viktor’s hand tightening.

“Fuck no.”

“This rope won’t hold both of us, look, there’s a fountain down there!” Viktor urged.

“What the fuck don’t you understand about no?!” Yuuri roared.

Yuuri looked down at his unfortunately smashed radio.

“Yuuri.”

“GUYS WE NEED HELP WE’RE HANGING OFF THE NORTH SIDE OF THE BUILDING!” Yuuri screamed at the top of his lungs.

Moments later a few figures scrambled across the ground metres beneath them. 

“Just hold it together for a second, help is on its way!” A figure yelled.

Yuuri looked back up at the rope. Just a measly few strands weren't going to last much longer.

“Yuuri, I can land in the fountain,” Viktor continued calmly.

Yuuri looked down and sucked in a deep breath.

“It’s barely a few metres deep and if you miss you’ll...” Yuuri’s voice slipped off when he saw the look of resignation on Viktor’s face.

“If we both drop, neither of us are going to make it.”

Yuuri screwed his eyes shut, willing away the images of his sister dangling over the fire.

“Viktor,” Yuuri started.

He could almost see Mari's lips moving as she spoke those apologetic words.

“I need you to do me a favour.”

“Viktor, please,” Yuuri choked.

The sorry smile on her face as she apologised.

“On my old phone, the one you confiscated, there’s a contact called nutcracker. I need you to call him.”

“Viktor, don't do this,” Yuuri begged, fighting to stem the tears bubbling down his cheeks.

The feeling of his sister's fingers digging under his own.

“Listen to me!”

Yuuri bit his lip and nodded, his eyes still screwed shut.

“Use the exact words, ‘Anna is coming home’. Apologise to my brother for me. Tell him to give you her ring.”

Yuuri’s eyes flew open, meeting the icy depths of blue.

“You have a broth-“

“And Yuuri, please don't blame yourself.” Viktor gave him a tired smile. “You gave me the only second chance I ever needed.”

There was a moment of emptiness and silence like Yuuri had never felt in his life as Viktor’s hand left his. Like the whole world around him and his breath from his lungs and his heart from his chest, were torn away from him and plummeted towards the ground.

 

A strangled howl clawed its way out of his chest, tearing through the deafening silence of his mind.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~I’m sorry, (I’m not sorry)~ In all seriousness though, I am sorry this took so long I’ve been studying my butt off on exams. Got one more to go, but after that I’ll be free to update regularly again! YAY, until then, enjoy the cliffhanger.


	32. Reunion (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, school is well and truly finished so I have absolutely no excuses for how late this chapter is, I'm so sorry, I just completely potatoed out. Well, I am back now! Updates will be regular for now.

_Last Chapter:_

 

 

_“Use the exact words, ‘Anna is coming home’. Apologise to my brother for me. Tell him to give you her ring.”_

_Yuuri’s eyes flew open, meeting the icy depths of blue._

_“You have a broth-“_

_“And Yuuri, please don't blame yourself.” Viktor gave him a tired smile. “You gave me the only second chance I needed.”_

_There was a moment of emptiness and silence like Yuuri had never felt in his life as Viktor’s hand left his. Like the whole world around him- and his breath from his lungs and his heart from his chest- were torn away from him and plummeted towards the ground._

 

_A strangled howl clawed its way out of his chest, tearing through the empty silence of his mind._

 

* * *

 

Minami and Leo tugged Yuuri up and onto the concrete ledge. As soon as he was on his feet Yuuri shoved the two men off and staggered towards the door.

"Yuuri-" Minami started, holding out an arm to steady him.

"Don't touch me!" Yuuri howled, lurching away from them.

Minami and Leo stood back in shock and watched as Yuuri collapsed against the nearest column, his breathing laboured as he muttered under his breath. 

"Yuuri, you're hurt," Minami murmured, gesturing to Yuuri's blood dripping arm.

Yuuri hissed as he clutched his arm to his chest before turning and sprinting out of the room, nearly tripping over his own feet as he went. He flew down the stairwell, missing the last step and barely managing to recover as he ran out of the lobby.

"YUURI! YOU'RE BLEEDING!" Guang-Hong screeched, tumbling after the other man once he had spotted him.

"Someone, stop him before he hurts himself!" Another voice cried.

Yuuri didn't stop running, his eyes focusing on the two policemen crouched over another body. He only stopped when he finally reached his destination, immediately struggling against the strong arms that wrapped around him. He twisted and struggled to look. 

"Yuuri, Yuuri listen to me. He's fine. Viktor is okay." Celestino hissed in his ear.

Yuuri sagged against the captain's body and let himself be lowered to the ground. As his head came to a rest against Celestino's shoulder, he glanced at Viktor's peaceful face. The Russian's eyes were closed and his mouth cracked into a small smile. Viktor was okay. Everything was going to be okay.

 

* * *

 

 Later,

 

"Yuuri!" Phichit weaved between people as he made his way towards his friend.

"Oh, Phichit I was looking for you." The creases in Yuuri’s brows softened.

"Yes, there's something very important I need to tell-"

"It can wait. I need you to help me get into the evidence locker."

Phichit blinked, "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"What? Did I stutter? I need you to help me get evidence."

"Okay, first of all. What why how who when? And I found out something really interesting about Viktor."

"Uhuh," Yuuri mumbled, dragging his friend towards the evidence storage room.

"On the note of Viktor, where is he actually?"

"Hospital."

"Oh, oh my god."

"He's probably going to be okay."

"Yuuri, he has a brother."

"I know," Yuuri muttered.

"Viktor Nikiforov has a brother! ...Wait, you know?"

"Viktor told me, he probably thought he was going to die."

Phichit's eyes widened. "I...is he okay?"

Yuuri sighed. "I thought we might've lost him. He's lucky he got out of it with a pretty mild concussion."

"What happened?"

"I dropped him from the side of a building." Yuuri tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

"You what?!"

"Into a water feature."

"Jesus fuck."

Yuuri came to a stop outside the evidence locker.

"Go and ask to get Viktor's old stuff."

"What? Why the hell do we need that? And why am I doing it?" Phichit screeched.

"I need Viktor's old phone and Celestino banned me from working."

"Well, alright then." Phichit shrugged.

Phichit made quick work of signing out Viktor's old belonging and came shuffling back to Yuuri with the box.

"Kay, here." He plopped the box down on the table.

Yuuri tossed the lid off and started rummaging through.

"Bro, what happened to your arm?" Phichit held a hand against Yuuri's shoulder.

Yuuri shrugged him off. "Just a shallow cut."

Phichit sat back down in silence, watching his friend work.

"Aren't you curious about what the note said?"

"I am," Yuuri mumbled as he picked out a plastic bag with a triumphant grin.

"You were right, it was a threat. She was threatening his brother."

"Is that all?" Yuuri unzipped the bag and pulled out the phone inside, pressing his finger to the power button.

He sighed when it refused to turn on, pulling a charger out of his pocket and plugging the dead phone in.

"Well, I'm not sure how much was lost in translation, but I'm pretty sure we got most of it. Wait, Yuuri, what are you doing?"

Yuuri opened the phone app and scrolled through the contacts stopping at an English contact. Nutcracker. His finger hovered over the call button.

"Yuuri, what the fuck are you doing?"

Yuuri pressed the call button before he could bring himself to regret this. He didn't have long either, the call connected after three rings.

"Hello? Vitya?" A voice replied.

European? German? Not Russian. Yuuri couldn't put a finger on the man's accent.

"H..hello," Yuuri stuttered out.

"Shit!" The man hissed.

"Wait, please don't hang up!" Yuuri screeched, digging through his mind for what Viktor had told him to say. 

"Fuck that!" The guy laughed.

"Anna is coming home!" Yuuri blurted. "Viktor told me to say that and tell you to give me her ring?"

There was a long sigh followed by a moment of silence.

"Is this a secure line?" 

"Uh," Yuuri glanced at Phichit who hand signed desperately. "No?"

"Give me a moment, I'll call you back." The call dropped abruptly.

"Yuuri, what the fuck!" Phichit screeched.

"Shush, I promised Viktor I would call this guy." Yuuri hissed, covering his best friend's mouth.

"You can't just-" Phichit froze when the phone started ringing again, this time from an unknown number.

"Watch me." Yuuri accepted the call and put it back on speakerphone.

"What happened to Viktor?"

Yuuri spent a moment analysing the voice, a guy, very likely European.

"Uh, there was an accident. He was hospitalized. If I'd known he'd had any next of kin I would've contacted you earlier."

"I'm not next-of-kin," the man stated in a matter of fact tone.

"Then what are you? I thought Viktor was asking me to talk to his brother."

"I should be the one asking questions, so, who the hell are you to Viktor?"

"I'm a police officer. I look after Viktor."

"Huh..."

"Detective Katsuki, by the way." Yuuri nodded at the phone, trying to ignore Phichit's piercing glare.

"Christophe, but you can call me Chris."

"So, who are you?"

"A friend."

"And his brother?"

"I know him."

Phichit rolled his eyes, this sure was an informative conversation.

Yuuri fidgeted with the cuff of his sleeve and sucked in a deep breath. "Come see Viktor."

"Huh?"

"You can visit, well, his brother, as next of kin, can visit."

"Oh, r..really?" Chris stammered.

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll be glad to see you. When should I be expecting you?"

"Um, I...I don't know. How long does it take to fly from Russia?" Chris laughed breathlessly.

"O...oh, a while, I suspect. But, Viktor won't be discharged for at least another day."

"Well, I've got some arrangements to make. I'll be seeing you very soon detective."

"Ah okay, um wait, Chris."

"Yes?"

"I'll give you my number so you can contact me anytime."

Phichit opened his mouth and made a face of soundless shrieking.

"Okay."

Yuuri rattled off Phichit's number to Chris quickly then ended the call.

"Yuuri," Phichit growled, grabbing his friend by his shoulders.

"Yes?" Yuuri replied meekly.

"THIS IS INSANITY, YOU JUST GAVE MY NUMBER - MY FUCKING NUMBER - TO A CRIMINAL. WHAT IS THE CAPTAIN GONNA SAY WHEN HE HEARS YOU INVITED PEOPLE TO VISIT VIKTOR IN HOSPITAL WITHOUT EVEN CLEARING IT WITH HIM FIRST!?"

"Hmm," Yuuri stroked his chin and smirked. "Kill me, maybe, if he knew. Oh, sorry about using your number, I smashed my phone so I can't exactly use that."

"Yuuri fucking Katsuki-"

"I'm kidding!" Yuuri chirped, leaping to his feet. "I'm gonna go tell him now, do I really look like I have a death wish?"

Yuuri slipped out the room quickly leaving Phichit alone.

"Yeah, sometimes you do seem to like dancing with death," Phichit sighed, letting his head fall against the table with a thud.

 

Once Yuuri hashed the details, or at least the little he knew about Chris, out to the captain who was pretty angry, Yuuri headed off to the hospital. 

 

He strode through the empty corridors, the hospital being empty since it was nearly half-past eight and visiting hours were over. The few people still bustling about were staff and doctors making their rounds. Yuuri himself was exempt from the restrictions of visiting hours as he was he was supposed to be in charge of looking after Viktor, not that Celestino had taken him off the team for a week of medical leave. Yuuri turned the corner, coming to a stop in front of Takeshi who was stationed in a chair just outside Viktor's room.

"Oh, hey, I thought you were supposed to be home taking a break?" Takeshi chuckled, looking up from his phone.

"Eh. Let me guess, you're stuck on babysitting duty?"

Takeshi shrugged. "You here to chat with Viktor? He went to sleep about half an hour ago, probably snoring away right now."

"Ah, that's okay. I didn't want to talk, just wanted to see how he's holding up." A soft smile crossed Yuuri's face. "If you don't mind."

"Yeah, go ahead. Just don't wake him up, the nurses might have your head." Takeshi grinned and made a cut-throat motion while sticking his tongue out.

"Okay," Yuuri whispered, turning and opening the door slowly.

It was dark inside the room, evident by how the greatest light source was moonlight filtering through the window. Yuuri's eye fell upon Viktor, his hair shimmering in the moonlight as he slept peacefully curled up on his side.

"Getting your daily dose of moonlight, huh?" Yuuri whispered, sitting on a chair conveniently sitting at Viktor's bedside.

Yuuri rested his elbows on Viktor's bed, being cautious not to bump into the snoozing man. He reached out and brushed Viktor's fringe out of his eyes, noticing for the first time that Viktor's eyelashes were long, ridiculously long. Viktor looked so much younger asleep, his face free of creases and the worried line his lips were often pulled into replaced with a soft smile. He almost seemed at peace with the world. The few times they had slept beside each other, Yuuri hadn't gotten a good look at Viktor's face.

"This isn't creepy at all," Yuuri mumbled, letting his head dropped into his arms.

He closed his eyes, willing the blush that had crawled across his face to go away. Sleep caught up with him faster than he thought and pulled him down into its warm embrace.

 

* * *

 

 Later that night,

 

Yuuri groaned, pressing his head back against the fingers gently carding through his hair. Yuuri's eyes flew open, meeting a pair of shimmering blue in the near darkness of the early morning. 

"Vik-" Yuuri started, half sitting up with his elbows still braced against the bed.

"Go back to sleep, Yuuri. It can wait till morning," Viktor whispered.

Viktor patted the bed where Yuuri's head had just been lying.

Yuuri glanced at the clock and let out a groan as he let his head fall back down onto the blanket. It was 3 am, no wonder he was too exhausted to argue.

Viktor quietly returned to running his fingers through Yuuri’s hair, a contemplative smile on his face.

 

* * *

 

 Earlier in St Petersburg,

 

“Give me the ball,” Yuri grumbled.

“Trust me, you don’t-“ Otabek started.

Yuri stuck out his hand. “Give me the ball. It's just fetch, how hard can it be?”

Otabek smirked and placed the tennis ball in Yuri’s palm.

“You’re gonna love this.”

Yuri made a face, then tossed the ball a few metres into the backyard. Makkachin chased after the ball with an enthusiastic bark and returned the ball straight to Yuri’s hand covered in a slobbery mess.

“Oh, ew, god, fuck.” Yuri shifted the ball to his other hand. “Now it’s on both my hands, great.”

“You see?”

“Why didn’t you warn me?” Yuri hissed accusingly as he made a half-hearted effort to toss the ball.

“I did.”

“You obviously weren’t trying hard enough, fucker.” Yuri grinned and wiped his hands on Otabek’s arm.

“Yura, that’s just foul play.”

Yuri sneered and shoved the older boy.

“Yuri!” Chris yelled from inside house.

Otabek yanked the boy closer on instinct, his other hand drifting towards the gun on his hip. There was something about Chris’ tone that was off.

“W...What?” Yuri called back.

“Get in here and pack your bags. We’re leaving in 20 minutes.”

“What?! I’m supposed to be leaving for practice!” Yuri choked, leaping to his feet.

“What are you waiting for?” The Swiss man practically screamed as he stuck his head out the back door.

Otabek and Yuri glanced at each other before rushing into the house.

“Pack light, just a change of clothes or two!” Chris shrieked as he paced to and fro, his phone clutched to his ear.

Yuri leapt up the stairs after Otabek as he headed to his room. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Otabek replied quietly.

“Otabek!” Chris screamed.

Otabek groaned and jogged back downstairs. “What is it?” 

“Pack your guns!”

Yuri’s eyes widened.

“I thought you said to pack light?”

“Not you, Yuri obviously.”

Yuri bolted down the stairs nearly knocking Otabek over in the process.

“Beka, what the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know. If I knew I would tell you, but I don’t know.” Otabek lips were pulled into a worried line, his hands rubbing up and down Yuri’s arms reassuringly.

Otabek turned and jogged back upstairs.

“Christophe!” Yuri hissed.

“Now is not a good time, Yuri darling.” Chris pointed at his phone.

“Don’t patronise me,” Yuri snapped.

“It’s okay I’ve got a sitter coming for Makkachin and Potya and I’ve already called Lilia.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. What’s happening, Chris?”

“We-“ Chris stuck his finger up, telling Yuri to shut up. “Hello, sorry for the short notice Ms Mikhailova, but we needed the first flight to Detroit. Yes, three people. Economy is fine. Carry on except for one special set of luggage. Yes, you know the drill. You’ll email the tickets? Two hours. Okay, thank you.” Chris ended the call and let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Chris, why the hell are we going to Detroit?” Yuri questioned, following him back to his office.

“It’s your brother.” 

Yuri stopped dead in his tracks. 

Chris grabbed his backpack from a corner and pushed past the younger boy.

“What the hell do you mean by, ‘it’s my brother’?”

“We are going to see your brother.”

“B...but I thought he was in police custody or something.”

“He is.”

“Then why are we going to see him, what the hell is happening?!”

“He was hospitalised!” Chris blurted, looking away the first moment he could.

Yuri stumbled backwards and right into Otabek’s arms.

“Yura, I packed your bag for you.”

“V...Viktor is hurt? How bad is it?” Yuri squeaked, clutching the bag to his chest.

“He’s in hospital, that’s all I know. Heck, I don’t even know if this is a trap or not.”

Otabek’s grip on Yuri’s arm tightened.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not, but better safe than sorry, hence Otabek bringing some firepower with him.”

Yuri sucked in a deep breath. “Then there’s one more person we gotta call.” He shakily dug his phone out of his pocket and punched the third number on speed dial.

Yuri sucked in a deep breaths “Dedushka, it’s Yuri. Viktor is in the hospital, this might be your only chance, please.”

Yuri nodded and made a few sounds of agreement before hanging up.

“Think you could get another ticket for us, Chris?” 

“Sure, why not?” Chris picked up his phone again.

 

* * *

 

 Detroit, the next morning,

 

Yuuri tugged the metal stool closer to the bedside, cringing as it followed him in jerky screeches. Viktor watched apprehensively as Yuuri sat down with a huff, his hands braced against his thighs.

"Why didn't you tell me you had a brother? If he's in trouble we could always bring him into the witness protection progr-"

"He's innocent," Viktor snapped, turning to glare back out the window.

"Then why do you seem so intent on pretending he doesn't exist?"

"Why is it any of your business?"

Yuuri opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Viktor was right, it wasn't his business.

Viktor let out a long sigh and turned to face Yuuri. 

"He's only a child."

"A child?"

"Just turned 16 in March." A soft smile crossed the Russian's tired face.

"Oh."

"He's so young and he's got so much ahead of him. So many dreams and aspirations. Confining him to one place like that, I couldn't."

“He’s just a kid.”

The smile on Viktor’s face grew warmer by the moment.

“A good kid.” Viktor turned and stared out the window.

After a long silence filled with the quiet chirping of birds waking with the rising sun, Yuuri spoke.

“How long have you looked after him?”

“He was three when we lost our parents.  My stepdad, his dad, and my mum.”

“Ah, so he’s your half-brother?” Yuuri fidgeted with the cuff of his shirt. 

He wasn’t sure where he was going with these questions or why he was even asking. It wasn’t his business.

“Yeah, looking at the kid you wouldn’t know we were related.” Viktor grinned then whined when his smile tugged at the stitches on his forehead.

“Ah, don’t smile too hard,” Yuuri snickered.

“Don’t laugh, you’ll make me smile,” Viktor chuckled, trying to pull his cheeks down.

After a small laughing fit Yuuri did his best to hold a serious face.

“How are you holding up?”

“Well, I’m not dead. That’s a start.”

Yuuri laughed dryly.

"Viktor, that note Crispino left behind..."

Viktor froze. "I can explain-"

"It's fine, Phichit already managed to figure it out. She was threatening your brother."

Viktor stared, shocked into silence for a moment. Phichit didn't know that the note was also threatening Yuuri himself.

"Ah, yes."

"Viktor, I want you to be honest with me, is there anything else I should know?" Yuuri's chocolate eyes hardened as he held Viktor’s gaze.

The Russian forced a lump down his throat, Yuuri knew that something was up. A little lie wouldn’t hurt, right?

"Crispino is after my brother," Viktor blurted, desperate for a diversion.

Yuuri sighed then laughed. "You really must've knocked your head quite hard, we've figured that out."

"She didn't even know I had a brother until recently. It's a secret for a reason, it keeps him safe. No one else knows. Who have you told?" 

"Wait, so you kept your brother a secret from the police because you're afraid we'll tell Crispino," Yuuri scoffed.

Viktor's fists balled up in the blanket. "Moles, you can never be safe enough."

"Viktor," Yuuri pressed a hand to the man's shoulder. "If it's any consolation the only people who know you have a brother are Phichit, Celestino and I. Can you trust us? I mean, we don't even know who your brother actually is."

Viktor reached up and pressed his hand over Yuuri's.

"Yuuri, I trust you. But there's something you should probably know."

Yuuri rested his other hand on top of Viktor's. "Yeah?"

"Crispino, she wants an eye for an eye and she won't stop till she gets what she wants. I know her."

"Viktor," Yuuri chuckled. "You say that like you think I won't stop till your brother is safe."

Viktor grinned. "Of course you won’t, detective."

Yuuri sighed and pulled his ( or rather Phichit's commandeered) phone out, a message from an unknown number was waiting on the lock screen.

 

From ###########: Hey it’s Chris, our flight should be arriving 9AM. Send me the deets for the hospital, I’ll meet you there.

To ###########: Hi, it's 1 Hospital Drive. Meet me at the staff entrance.

From ###########: Okay, should be there in 30.

To ###########: I will be waiting at the staff entrance. Less people should be easier to get in and out without being seen.

 

Viktor cleared his throat.

"Is something the matter, Yuuri?"

Yuuri looked up and smiled. Viktor liked good surprises, right? 

"Oh, no. Just some business I have to take care of. We'll continue this conversation later, okay?"

Viktor nodded reluctantly, reaching out to brush a hand against Yuuri's injured arm.

"W...wait, how's your arm?"

Yuuri shrugged. "I'm on pain meds, so, not terrible I assure you."

"Okay." Viktor let go of Yuuri's wrist.

"Um, bye," Yuuri muttered before slipping out of the room.

 

* * *

 

 Outside the hospital 30 minutes later,

 

Yuri snored loudly against Otabek’s shoulder in the silence of the car.

“This traffic is a bloody nightmare,” Chris sighed, glancing in the rearview mirror at the three people stuffed into the back. Why Nikolai felt the need to squish himself in there besides Yuri and Otabek, Chris has no idea.

“Indeed,” Nikolai replied gruffly, glaring at Otabek in the far seat.

Fifteen rather awkward minutes later Chris pulled up in the undercover parking and cut the engine.

“Okay, we’re here.”

“Yura,” Otabek whispered, shaking him gently.

“Urrgghh.”

“Altin.” Chris turned in his seat. “I need you to sit up front, keep your phone on. If I don’t message, call or come back in 20 minutes you get their asses back to the airport and on the first flight off this continent. Got it?”

“Roger that.” Otabek stepped out of the car, ignoring Yuri’s whining as he flopped into the empty space.

“I hate planes, especially when we have like a dozen layovers,” Yuri groaned.

“I’ve got paracetamol in my bag if that might help,” Otabek muttered as he and Chris switched places.

“Nah nah, give me my phone.” Yuri swatted at the back of Otabek’s seat.

Chris took a moment to order himself, rolling down the sleeves of his shirt and neatening his hair.

“What are you, going on a date?” Yuri hissed as Chris checked his reflection in the car window.

“No, just seeing an old friend.” Chris winked before turning with a flourish and striding away.

“He is disgusting,” Yuri grumbled. “Where’s my phone?”

“Give me a second.” Otabek fished the phone out of his pocket and tossed it into Yuri’s lap.

“Fuck, it’s dead.”

“Language, Yura.” Nikolai chided.

Yuri slumped in his seat. “Sorry. Beka, could I please have my power pack.”

Otabek nearly shuddered at the words ‘please’ coming out of Yuri’s mouth. He leaned over to his backpack sitting in the front passenger seat and started rifling through a couple of rifles (literally). Yuri had chucked it in at the last minute so it should have been close to the top. Otabek wrapped his fingers around the cool metal and chucked it back into Yuri’s lap again.

“Uh, Beks.”

“What, Yura?”

“This isn’t my power pack.”

“What do you-“ Otabek turned around and nearly started choking on his own spit.

Yuri swung a shiny, black, fully loaded gun mag in his hand. As stone-faced as ever, Otabek reached out and calmly plucked the mag from his fingers, trying to ignore the death stares from Nikolai. Otabek dug around in his backpack, actually paying attention this time, and pulled out the power pack and handed it to Yuri.

“Thank you.” Yuri plugged his phone in then pulled his headphones out.

God bless for sound cancelling headphones.

“You brought guns?” Nikolai asked.

Otabek didn’t see a reason to lie. “A few.”

Otabek swallowed and gripped the steering wheel with two hands and once again tried to ignore death standing over his shoulder in the form of Yuri’s grandfather.

 

* * *

 

 Chris wiped his hands on the leg of his pants as he approached the corner. The staff entrance where he was supposed to meet the police was just around the corner. He glanced around and there he was. A Japanese man with a police jacket dressed loosely over his shoulders leaned against the wall, a single arm heavily bandaged.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Chris crooned to himself. "Yuuri from motherfucking DC."

Chris slipped out of his hiding place and walked up to the man.

"Hi."

Yuuri looked up. "Uh, you're Viktor's brother?"

Chris made a lopsided grin. "No way, I'm way too beautiful to be related to him."

Yuuri's face scrunched up in what could only be described as an adorably confused face. Chris tilted his head to a side, did Yuuri not remember him?

"His boyfriend?"

"Oh, god no. I'm just the sacrificial front-runner making sure this isn't a trap." Chris flashed a charming smile.

Yuuri took a second to process his words before nodding. "Fair enough." 

Yuuri whipped around on his heel and strode into the hospital, punching the button on the service elevator impatiently.

"So, how's he doing?"

"He's okay, he woke up pretty quickly. He should be back to normal in a few days."

"And what happened to you?" Chris looked down at his arm.

Yuuri shrugged. "It's a long story."

Chris was tempted to say that he had time on his hands, but before he knew it they were standing at what he assumed to be Viktor's door. "Here's goes nothing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, please leave comments or drop some kudos, subscribe bookmark. Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Also, fair warning, I'm having 5 teeth taken out on Thursday so I'm not 100% sure the next chapter will be out on Monday night as usual. I will try my hardest. Until then, have a great week <3


	33. Reunion (Part 2)

_Last Chapter:_

 

_Yuuri looked up. "Uh, you're Viktor's brother?"_

_Chris made a lopsided grin. "No way, I'm much too beautiful to be related to him."_

_Yuuri's face scrunched up in what could only be described as an adorably confused face._

_"His boyfriend?"_

_"Oh, god no. I'm just the sacrificial front-runner making sure this isn't a trap." Chris flashed a charming smile._

_Yuuri whipped around on his heel and strode into the hospital, punching the button on the service elevator impatiently._

_"So, how's he doing?" Chris asked._

_"He's okay, he woke up pretty quickly. He should be back to normal in a few days." Yuuri glared insistently away from Chris._

_Chris whistled to himself quietly and looked around, why was Yuuri avoiding looking at him? Was he suddenly shy? Chris looked up and about his eyes falling on a convex mirror mounted in a corner of the corridor. Chris flinched, ripping his gaze away from the pair of unyielding amber eyes staring at him from behind a pair of blue-rimmed glasses from the mirror. It took every ounce of Chris' self-control not to let a gasp escape his throat, thankfully the elevator arrived with a loud ding, giving Chris a moment to let out a shaky breath. Yuuri was watching all along._

_"And what happened to you?" Chris looked down at the Japanese man's arm._

_Yuuri shrugged. "It's a long story."_

_Chris was tempted to say that he had time on his hands, but before he knew it they were standing at what he assumed to be Viktor's door. "Here's goes nothing."_

 

* * *

 

 “Chris!?” Viktor’s face lit up with a mixture of confusion and relief.

“Viktor, so nice to see you,” the Swiss man drawled, wrapping Viktor in a hug. “Geez, have you lost weight?”

Yuuri shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another before shuffling to the back of the room and settling in a chair, trying to give the pair some semblance of privacy as he pulled his phone out.

“Is that a bad thing?” 

“If it’s you then it probably is, darling.”

“I’m alright.” Viktor shrugged and grinned at his best friend.

“Look, you’re in a hospital bed, you’re not exactly the dandiest right now.”

“Pah,” Viktor waved his concern off. “How’s your beau?”

“He’s good. We’re as good as doing long distance even though we live in the same city gets.”

“I’m just going to pretend like that wasn’t a jab at me for giving you a job.”

“Full time,” Chris deadpanned. “Babysitting.”

“He’s not a baby.” Viktor rolled his eyes.

“You’re right, he’s worse." Chris pulled out his phone and typed a quick message.

Viktor gawked in mock offence.

Chris sighed. “You know what? Yuuri over there asked me if we were dating.”

Yuuri groaned and brought his face closer down to his phone in his lap.

“WHAT A JOKE!” Viktor guffawed. 

“I know right!” Chris laughed.

Yuuri glared at his phone, he was fighting back the smile trying to form on his lips, he hadn’t heard Viktor laugh like this in a while.

“Yuuri Yuuri Yuuri Yuuri-“

“Oh my god Viktor, what?” Yuuri laughed anyway, “what is it?”

“This is my best friend, Christophe.”

Yuuri walked over and offered a handshake to the man who wore a shit-eating grin.

“Christophe Giacometti, but please, call me Chris,” he drawled as he pulled Yuuri close and got nice and handsy with that ass.

Yuuri squeaked and jumped away.

“Nice to be reacquainted with that ass, Yuuri~ Viktor’s treating you well, isn’t he?” 

“Chris,” Viktor warned. “I’m so sorry Yuuri, Chris is a little... handsy.”

“Ah...t...that’s okay...I’m just gonna...go b..back to my seat then.” Yuuri nearly burning red enough to combust as he returned to his chair in the corner of the room.

 

* * *

 

Back in the parking lot,

 

Otabek sat in a tense silence for what felt like an eternity until his phone dinged, making him flinch hard enough to drop the darn thing.

“It’s Chris, he said we’re clear.”

“Right, I’m gonna go on ahead real quick. Take your time dedushka,” Yuri chirped, practically flying out of the car.

“Yuri!” Otabek called.

“What?” The teen sighed, turning to walk backwards.

“Use the staff entrance. Basement on the left.”

Yuri gave him the thumbs up before turning around and continuing to stride away into the more or less empty parking lot.

 

* * *

 

 Back in Viktor's hospital room,

 

“Chris,” Viktor hissed, yanking him closer by the arm.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“He doesn’t remember DC, idiot,” Viktor replied in a hushed whisper.

“Oh...ohhhhhhh... that explains a lot. He’s a completely different person.”

“I know and...”

“Not what you were expecting?”

“Yeah, no I wasn’t expecting it, but he’s really nice. He’s even better than what I thought he would be.”

“Holy shit, you’re whipped.”

“W...what?” A tiny blush spread across Viktor’s cheeks.

“You’re. So. Whipped.”

“N...no Chris, he...we...Yuuri...we aren’t like that.” Viktor sighed and slapped his palm against his face.

“Okay Mr He’s Nice And It Turns Out I Actually Like That,” Chris teased.

Viktor shrugged. “He’s more than I deserve.”

Chris sighed. “Oh darling, you don’t-“

The door flew open with a bang, jolting Yuuri into a standing position, his hand reaching for his gun. He froze, watching the emotions flicker across Viktor’s face from joy to sadness, to longing. Chris turned and stepped away from Viktor’s bedside, joining Yuuri on the far side of the room. Yuuri caught the flash of blonde under the black hood before the figure started moving.

Viktor was almost certain that that ugly sound was coming from him, clawing its way out of his throat, but he really couldn't bring himself to care. Yuri crossed the room in a few short strides and balancing himself on the edge of the bed, wrapped Viktor in a hug. Viktor buried his face in the younger man's shoulder. He could barely find the energy stop the telltale tremors let alone stem the tears that slowly soaked into the black fabric that he clutched at so desperately. 

"Remember this," he urged himself. It would probably be the last time he gets to hold his brother for a long time, if ever again. Oh, how the tables have turned, with little Yuri, grown into a fine young man, holding Viktor together on a hospital bed.

 

Yuuri watched on in awe, glancing at Chris beside him who simply watched with a soft smile on his face. Yuuri, sat back down, cringing as the chair squeaked under his weight and pulled his headphones over his ears. He was still trying to give them some semblance of privacy.

 

Viktor wiped his eyes and brushed some of his hair back into place. Who was he kidding, everyone in the room had quite literally witnessed his breakdown. Who was he trying to fool but himself? He pulled away, holding Yuri at arm's length.

"It's been a while, Yura," he murmured, hating how hoarse his voice sounded.

"You're not dead."

"Thank you for pointing that out, Captain Obvious."

Yuri scowled, but not before Viktor could catch the fond smile of exasperation on his face. 

"You know what I meant."

"You've grown so much." Viktor ruffled his locks, much to Yuri's ire.

"It's only been like...what?"

"Three hundred and thirty-seven days since the last time we met. Just making sure you know,  that I have not been counting." Viktor grinned and wiped at his eyes.

Yuri rolled his eyes. "Sure. You totally haven't been counting, right?"

"You've grown. Literally. You're at that age, you know, where you can blink and kids just grow." Viktor gestured passionately, clutching one hand to his chest.

"Whatever," Yuri muttered. "Who's the pig?" He grumbled, gesturing behind him at Yuuri who was sitting on the floor, crouched over his laptop and Phichit's headphones over his ears.

"Manners, Yuri. That's my..." Viktor paused, looking at Yuuri curiously. "My partner."

Chris looked up from his phone and raised an eyebrow.

Viktor's eyes narrowed. "Don't underestimate him. He could give your Otabek a good run for his money."

"My Otabek?" Yuri scoffed.

"Yuuri?" Viktor called, rolling his eyes when Yuuri didn't even hear him.

"Yuuri?" Viktor tried again.

"Yuuri!" He squawked, louder than should be appropriate in a hospital.

Viktor giggled this time, which surprisingly, did catch Yuuri's attention.

"Yuuri, come here." Viktor gestured him over.

Yuuri slipped his headphones off and walked over to Viktor and the other Yuri.

"We have the same name? That's disgusting," Yuri grunted.

"What did I say about manners, Yura?" Viktor's grip on the young man's arm tightened.

Yuri scowled and offered a handshake, which Yuuri took amicably. 

"You know when Viktor said he had a brother I hadn't imagined he meant figure skating genius Russian Punk Grand Prix Final Champion little brother."

"He's a fan by the way," Viktor chuckled, winking at Yuri.

Yuri glared at his feet. "Whatever. How are Mila and Georgi? Have you seen them?"

Yuuri and Viktor froze.

"Yuuri, could you get me something from my bag of stuff."

"Uh, yeah. What do you need?"

"In the inner pocket of my jacket."

Yuuri grabbed the plastic bag with Viktor's stuff in it, rummaging through until he found Viktor's jacket and reached into the pocket. His fingers immediately wrapped around a thin metal chain, pulling it out. It was Mila's Hello Kitty pendant. With a slight tremor in his hand, he placed it into Viktor's open hand.

"Yuri," Viktor murmured, an unreadable expression on his face as he held the pendant up by its silver chain. "Mila would've wanted you to have this." He opened Yuri's shaking fist and placed the pendant against his palm. Yuri quickly undid the clasp and put the pendant on.

"Fuck, it's so ugly," he whimpered, his fingers caressing the jewelled cat now hanging from his neck.

"Yuri," Viktor placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Georgi would be proud of you."

Yuri let out a shaky breath and took a step away from the bed. "I need some air," he muttered, turning and walking towards the door.

"Wait, Yuri-"

Yuri paused by the door. "There's someone else who'll be here to see you too by the way." The boy slipped out of the room quietly, leaving Viktor in confusion.

"Um, Yuuri?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think you could keep an eye on Yuri for me?"

"Um, sure." Yuuri nodded, turned and slipped out of the room.

 

* * *

 

 (Back at the parking lot, again,)

 

Nikolai groaned as he swung as he his legs out of the car.

“Do you need a hand, Mr Plisetsky?”

Nikolai waved him off. “No, no, just getting a little old.”

“You’re sure?”

Nikolai sighed then nodded. “Maybe a little.”

Otabek offered his hand.

“Altin,” Nikolai started as he braces his hand against Otabek’s.

“Yes sir?” Otabek pulled him to a standing position.

He didn’t let go of Otabek’s hand, instead clutching it harder.

“If something happens-“

“Nothing is going to happen," Otabek stated, his voice unwavering.

“If something does happen, you’ll protect Yurochka?”

“With my life.”

“But since you’ve only got one of those you’d better use those bullets of yours first. Though from what I’ve heard, Yuri would like you just as much if you were dead.” The old man cracked a smile.

Otabek remained otherwise speechless until he patted Otabek’s hand. Did the old man just...make a joke?

“Let’s shake on that.”

“Ah, okay Mr Plisetsky.” Otabek shook his hand as steady as he could manage.

“Oh and, call me Nikolai, please.”

Otabek nodded. “Okay, Mr Pl...Nikolai.”

 

* * *

 

Yuuri spotted the teenager striding off down the hall and about to turn the corner so he jogged to catch up. Yuri stopped at a water fountain and kicked the wall beside it absently.

"Hey," Yuuri murmured, slipping into a seat nearby.

Yuri gave him a noncommittal grunt as he used his sleeve to wipe his face.

"What do you want?" Yuri crossed his arms.

Yuuri gave the younger man a small smile. "Nothing. How are you holding up?"

"Did Viktor put you up to this?" The teenage grumbled as he collapsed into the seat beside Yuuri.

"I guess you can say that."

"He's stupid, I can look out for myself."

Yuuri shrugged. "He's worried."

"The idiot should be more worried about himself, he is the one who's fucking hospitalised."

"I can't blame him, I was older than you when I debuted. It must be tough on you."

Yuri glanced at the Japanese man who was now staring at the ceiling nostalgically.

"Piggy, you were a skater?"

"Yeah. Nowhere near as good as you though."

Yuri scowled and looked away at the compliment.

"Viktor must like you a lot if you're not dead," he grunted.

"What?"

"I'm not fucking stupid, even if everyone hides things from me. I know the legends, I know what my brother is capable of."

Yuuri shrugged. "Were you close to Mila and Georgi?"

"Why the hell should I-"

"Viktor took it pretty hard too when Mila died."

"Don't talk about Viktor or Mila or Gosha like you know anything, pig! My brother is more human than you would know." Yuri hissed, his fingers clenched around Mila's pendant.

"I know more than you think," Yuuri murmured thoughtfully, glancing at the teenager who looked a little shocked.

"Like what, huh?" Yuri spat.

"I know that Viktor and I were the about the same age when we lost our parents."

Yuri froze. "I'm sorry." The menace had all but slipped from the teenager's voice and all that remained was silence.

"It's okay."

The two remained in an awkward silence for a while before Yuuri decided to speak.

"This is probably going to sound kind of weird, but I swear to god I remember you having a Russian accent."

Yuri cleared his throat. "It's called practice, idiot," Yuri grunted in a perfect Russian accent.

"Oh..." Yuuri started, flinching when the younger Russian jumped out of his seat and stalked over to a pair of men standing a few metres away, bursting into rapid-fire Russian.

Yuuri stood but kept his mouth shut, his eyes meeting a very familiar pair of dark brown eyes.

"I'm Otabek Altin, a friend of Plisetsky's." He stuck his hand out, offering a firm handshake.

"Nikolai Plisetsky." The older man offered.

Yuuri shook both men's hands. "Detective Yuuri Katsuki."

After introductions were done Yuri and Nikolai walked off, babbling away in Russian. The only words Yuuri managed to catch were Viktor and Yuuri. Otabek and Yuuri followed a few steps behind as they made their way back to Viktor's room.

"We have never met before, okay?" Otabek whispered, trying not to catch Yuri's attention.

Yuri's turned momentarily causing Otabek to jerk away from Yuuri, shooting the Japanese man a glare.

"You'd be the DJ, right?" Yuuri asked good-naturedly, doing his best to avert Yuri's attention.

"Is that all I am now? Yuri Plisetsky’s DJ friend?" Otabek laughed bitterly, but the small smile on his face was genuine.

They continued to walk to the hospital room in amicable silence. When they neared, Yuuri spoke, addressing the entire group.

“If you have any weapons you’re going to need to leave them outside.” Yuuri glanced at Otabek.

Otabek raised his hand slowly. “Where do you want me to put them?”

“Uh, follow me I guess?” Yuuri gestured to the storage room.

Otabek, Yuuri and another officer followed into the room.

“You can leave your stuff here.” Yuuri patted an empty table.

“Okay.” 

Otabek reached inside his jacket and slowly removed the two guns holstered to his sides and placed them down on the table. Then the two holstered to his hips.

“Jesus Christ, what are you here for, war?” The other officer asked incredulously.

Otabek shrugged as he bent down and lifted the leg of his pants up to remove the knives strapped to his legs.

“Hey, Smith, why don’t you go check the other two before they head in. I’ll finish up here.” Yuuri shrugged.

“Kay,” Smith replied, whistling as he left the room.

Otabek put the knives down on the table.

“So,” Yuuri picked up one of his guns. “What are you really?”

“A school teacher in training.”

“Really? That’s cool. Asides being a teacher and DJ?”

Otabek shrugged. “Part-time bodyguard and best friend?”

“Mm, and being a bodyguard includes flying halfway around the world to save my ass?” Yuuri laughed, a twinkle in his eye.

Otabek was sure that he should be bothered having this conversation with a cop, but Katsuki didn’t seem even the slightest bothered.

“Viktor signs my cheques.”

“How’d someone as young as you get into the business?”

“Viktor saved my ass when I was a kid, took me under his wing, cleaned me up and gave me back my life and family. And gave me Yuri too.”

“Gossip says you two are brothers.”

“We grew up together.” Otabek bent down to remove the other knife.

“You can leave that one there.”

“Huh?” Otabek straightened up and looked the officer dead in the eyes.

“You can keep that knife on.”

“I thought you said no weapons...”

“I did, but I’m a pretty paranoid bastard myself, so I always have my own knives on me anyway.” Yuuri shrugged.

Otabek looked at the Japanese man, looked at him properly that is. His pudgy cheeks and willowy figure made him seem small and rather ordinary, like someone who would fade into the wallpaper at a party. The slight softness in his cheeks and the abashedness in his shy smiles was disarming. If Viktor was interested in him though, then weak and soft was probably the last thing he would be. The guy couldn’t be an ordinary cop, especially when he carried personal knives around.

“You trust me?”

“You seem to care about Yuri a lot. If it comes down to that I could use another hand to protect them if something does go wrong.”

Otabek nodded and straightened his pant leg.

“We all done here then?”

Yuuri nodded and gestured him towards the door. “The others are probably waiting for us.”

Yuri leaned against a column in a secluded recess, chatting amicably with his grandfather. He had his hoodie up and a face mask pulled down over his chin as a means of hoping no one would recognise him.

“You ready to go see Viktor?” Yuuri asked.

“I’ve already seen him, so you’ve got some time to yourself.” 

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” Nikolai asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course he wants to see you, dedushka. He might not have admitted it out loud all these years, but he does.” Yuri took his grandfather’s hand and slowly started to pull him towards the room.

“Yurochka, I’m not sure this is such a good idea-“

Yuri continued marching, not stopping till he was right at the door. 

“You agreed to fly halfway around the world without any hesitation. You can’t chicken out now.”

Nikolai nodded and pressed a hand against the door handle. The older man squeezed his eyes shut and pushed the door open. A moment later he opened his eyes. Viktor turned his head slowly, his hair and body framed in the sunlight flowing through the window.

“N...Nikolai?” He choked.

Nikolai took a few hesitant steps across the room till he was standing at Viktor’s bedside.

Viktor gaped.

“Oh, Vitya.” Nikolai reached out and ran his fingers through the younger man’s soft silver locks, dwelling over the bandage wrapped securely around his forehead for a moment.

“Why are you here?” Viktor asked, disbelief lacing his tone.

“To see a certain idiot.”

“Nikolai,” Viktor muttered, lowering his head as he took the man’s hands in his own.

“Vitya, Vitya,” The man whispered.

“I’m so sorry,” Viktor choked as he pressed gentle kisses to the man’s knuckles.

“I came here to apologise as well.”

“For what? Hating me when you had every right? I am the one who should be sorry.”

“And I’m the one who pushed you away and did not forgive you. Please, raise your head.”

Viktor lifted his head slowly, his eyes still downcast and betraying a deep sadness.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. I did not want either of us to die before I could apologise to you.”

“You’ve nothing to apologise for.”

“We’re family, Vitya, I will always forgive you.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Viktor sobbed, burying his face against the older man’s chest.

“Eight years is a long time, isn’t it?”

“Too long.” Viktor smiled crookedly between hiccups.

Nikolai patted the silver mop of hair. "Well, it's okay now."

Viktor leaned back and paused, a confused frown crossing his face. "Wait, I haven't even asked, but, why are you all here?" 

"The detective kindly arranged for us to visit," Nikolai replied, turning to find the detective in the small group of people behind him.

"Katsuki?" Yuri murmured, looking around. "What the hell. He's gone."

"On last name basis with the detective already," Viktor cooed, tugging his brother into a hug.

"Get the fuck off me! What the hell else am I supposed to call him?" Yuri whined, struggling weakly.

"This is going to get so confusing, you know what?"

Yuri shook his head aggressively. "I don't want to know!"

"I'm going to call you Yurio!"

"FUCK NO!"

Sighs echoed through the room.

 

* * *

 

 Later,

 

"You're free to go, Mr Nikiforov. Just be careful with your stitches, alright?" 

"Yes, doctor." Viktor grinned and reached up to brush his fringe aside, revealing the stitches on his forehead.

"No strenuous activities, both mentally and physically, for at least a week." The doctor tapped her clipboard and smiled. 

"No strenuous activity." Viktor parrotted before grabbing Yuuri's arm and tugging him off.

"V...Viktor!" Yuuri hissed.

"I am...free!" Viktor laughed, throwing his arms into the air before stepping carefully into a black SUV.

"What the hell are you so happy about?" Yuri grunted, glancing over as his brother and the detective slid into the same row of seats.

"How are you doing back there, Chris, Mr Plisetsky and Mr Altin?" Yuuri asked, craning his head as he did his seatbelt up.

"Good, I appreciate you letting us stay with. And please call me Nikolai."

"O...Okay, Nikolai." Yuuri replied, sitting back down.

"Alright Smith, let's go." Yuuri tapped the back of the driver's seat.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Yuri grumbled to his brother.

"I'm so excited! Seatbelts everyone?" Viktor squealed, practically vibrating in his seat.

Yuri leaned forward and looked over at the detective.

"How the fuck do you deal with this shit every day?" He sneered.

"Good question," Yuuri snickered.

"Yuuri," Viktor gasped. "You're supposed to defend me."

"From what, the truth?" Yuuri smirked.

Yuri leaned back into his seat covering his mouth to stop the laughter from escaping. Maybe this cop wasn't so bad after all.

"Ah, this is going to be a bad 2 days, isn't it?" Viktor whined, collapsing against Yuuri.

Yuuri had managed to arrange for Yuri, his ~~bodyguard~~ friend, grandfather and Chris to stay at the safe house. While it would be pretty cramped for the time being, Yuri's flight back to Russia left the next evening so it wouldn't be uncomfortable for too long. Just one night, what could possibly go wrong?

 

* * *

 

That afternoon,

 

"Get out of my face, SHITBAG!" Yuri roared, the sound of a door slamming echoing down the corridor.

Yuuri leapt off the couch and scrambled towards the back door where Viktor was still standing looking a little stunned.

"Viktor?"

"Ah, sorry Yuuri, did we disturb you?"

"No no, is something the matter?"

Viktor waved him off and shrugged. "Teenage rage."

"Did he just...storm outside?"

"Yes, quite the raging tempest isn't he?" Viktor smiled, albeit a little painfully.

"What happened?"

"He slammed the door in my face."

Yuuri let out a long-suffering sigh. "But why?"

Viktor shrugged. "I don't know."

"Well, it's cold outside, he's going to freeze to death. Call him back inside." Yuuri sighed, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

Viktor remained rooted in place. "I, uh."

Yuuri raised a single eyebrow.

"He said he didn't want to talk to me so it probably wouldn't be wise if I talked to him." The Russian man stared at his feet.

"You want...me talk to him?"

Viktor nodded rapidly and left his head hanging. 

"Okay, but you've got to sort things out with him." Yuuri reached for the back door and stepped out without another word.

 

"Yuri-kun? Where are you?"

"Over here, you blind shit," Yuri grunted.

Yuuri whipped around to face the source of the voice. Yuri braced against the wall and stood, sauntering over to Yuuri with a scowl on his face.

"What," the teenager jabbed a finger into Yuuri's chest. "The hell do you want?"

Yuuri held his ground, trying not to shift his eyes under the unwavering emerald-green gaze of the very fierce Russian Punk.

"You're obviously pissed off at your brother."

Yuri scoffed. "And you care, why?"

Yuuri shrugged. "Am I not allowed to care? I'll listen to whatever you have to say."

Yuri took a step back, glaring the Japanese man up and down. 

"My brother always pretends everything is okay." The teenager wrapped his arms around himself, body curling inwards till he looked like a child. "I'm not an idiot. I know nothing is okay. I wish he would rely on me more and stop treating me like a fucking child!" Yuri kicked a stone into the yard before grunting and collapsing against the nearest wall.

"You're out of your depth, Yuri."

"And you're treating me like a kid too, huh?" The teen spat.

"Maybe," Yuuri sighed, he really didn't want to do this, but he supposed extreme measures might actually work.

Yuuri turned away from the teen and paced away slowly, his fingers wrapping firmly around the handle of a knife inside his jacket. He whipped around, the sweet motion of his wrist flicking as the knife left his hands and the satisfying sound of the knife burying itself in the wooden boards of the house just a few metres away and just mere inches from Yuri Plisetsky's right cheek. Sigh, Yuuri. Two inches, that's fucking terrible. A parlour artist could do better, but from the look of shock on Yuri's face, it was more than enough. Yuuri lowered his arm slowly.

"Holy shit," Yuri breathed, stumbling to his left.

"Do you think you could've dodged that?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's the saying? The more the merrier? There will be lots of fun, happy stuff happening in the next chapter, a break thank god. 
> 
> Anyway, sorry this is so late. I had my teeth taken out a week ago and I was expecting to have a lot of free time while recovering, but it just turns out I have a terribly low pain threshold and I spent most of the last week sleeping. 
> 
> Due to all these interruptions, I do have a chapter lined up for Yuuri's birthday, but at this rate, it's going to come out on Viktor's birthday which is awkward because I wanted to write something for Vik's bday as well. >.< Great planning on my part.
> 
> To summarise, updates will be regular (back to Mondays) from the 18th. So you'll actually get two chapters within just 3 days (please accept this gift in exchange for me being gone for so long).
> 
> And finally, wish me luck. I will receive my results for the two senior subjects I did this year in less than 12 hours. That's 1/3 of my final score. *internal sCreAmING*


	34. Reunion (Part 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I’ll get right to it! I’m tired, it’s late and there’s bound to be many mistakes XD, enjoy it anyway

  _Last Chapter:_

 

_Yuuri turned away from the teen and paced away slowly, his fingers wrapping firmly around the handle of a knife. He whipped around the sweet motion of his wrist flicking as the knife left his hands and the satisfying sound of the knife burying itself in the wooden boards of the house just a few metres away and just mere inches from Yuri Plisetsky's right cheek. Two inches, that's fucking terrible. A parlour artist could do better, but from the look of shock on Yuri's face, it was more than enough. Yuuri lowered his arm slowly._

_"Holy shit," Yuri breathed, stumbling to his left._

_"Do you think you could've dodged that?"_

 

* * *

 

A few nervous giggles bubbled out of Yuri before disintegrating into howls of delirious laughter.

“Um, Yuri?”

“Fuck you!” Yuri laughed, wiping the tears of mirth from his face. “Like anyone could’ve dodged that shit. How did you even do that? It was like all WHOOSH and I just blinked and it hit the wood right next to my head.”

“I...uh, just threw the knife?” Yuuri shrugged and scratched the back of his neck.

“Wow, you’re really something.” The teenager raised his head, a look of awe on his face. “What are you?”

“A cop?”

“What are you really? A spy? Army? SEALs? Black Ops?”

“Just a cop.” Yuuri sweated just a little, this kid was taking this a little too well.

Yuri turned a wrapped a hand around the knife and yanked it out of the wall.

“Cool knife,” Yuri murmured, weighing the blade in his hand.

“Yuri, I know you’re worried about your brother-“

“No one tells me what’s going on.”

“But your brother wants you to enjoy your life without this...stuff interfering.”

“Has it occurred to anyone for even a second that I would like to know and this bothers me whether I know the details or not?”

Yuuri sighed and walked back over to Yuri and sucked a deep breath in.

"I'll tell you."

Yuri nodded. "Thank you."

"Your brother is being targeted by an old rival. He agreed to help us hunt her down, in exchange we protect him." Yuuri supposed excluding the detail that Yuri himself was in danger probably wouldn’t hurt anyone.

"I see."

"Part of our deal is that when this is all over Viktor gets a clean slate. He'll be free to go back to Russia and be with you and Chris and your grandpa."

Yuri's eyes widened. "Really? He can come back?"

"Yeah."

Yuri nibbled on his lower lip. "If he survives?"

"He will, I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, pig." Yuri huffed and turned to head back to the house.

"Um, wait, Yuri?"

"Yeah?" The teen paused and turned around.

"Can I have my knife back? And can you please not tell your brother I threw a knife at you?"

Yuri paused and pressed a finger to his chin as if in thought, just like his brother. 

"I'll consider it, if," Yuri sneered. "If you let me keep the knife."

The brothers look little alike, but they're both equally devious and capable of scheming to get what they want. Why is Yuuri not surprised?

"Fine," Yuuri relented. "It's old anyway, but!" The teen visibly deflated.

"You can't do anything stupid with it or use it unless Otabek teaches you how to use it. And take this." Yuuri tossed the knife's sheath to Yuri, watching as he gently sheathed it into the black pocket.

"Why can't you teach me?"`

"What could I possibly teach you in the 24 hours you've got left here?"

"Fair enough." Yuri turned on his heel and headed straight for the door. "It's fucking cold and I'm hungry. Feed me." Yuri tugged on the door, groaning when it didn't budge.

"What was that? Did I hear a please?" Yuuri chuckled and he walked over to help.

"Please?" Yuri sighed, standing aside to let the older man open the door.

"Sorry, this door is a bit messed up. You have to lift it up and a little to the left for it to work properly."

"Terrible," Yuri grunted as he followed Yuuri's instructions and kicked off his shoes to the side as he entered the house.

"Ah, Yura," Viktor chirped, lingering nervously at the threshold into the kitchen.

Yuri shuffled up to his brother. "Sorry for screaming at you." He shoved past Viktor and walked right up to the fridge. 

"What's for dinner?" The teen sighed as he dug through the fridge.

"Yuuri," Viktor whispered, "what did you do to my brother?"

Yuuri shrugged. "I talked to him. Why? Did he say something weird?"

"He apologised to me," Viktor hissed, grabbing Yuuri by the shoulders.

"And?" Yuuri was rather confused and shaken now, literally because Viktor was shaking him, albeit it very gently.

"The apologising thing?" Chris piped in from behind the pair, causing both of them to jump apart.

"Da!" Viktor cried, latching onto his friend. "What happened to my dear brother?"

"He's been practising." Chris grinned proudly.

"Practising?" Yuuri echoed.

"Yes, practising apologising to people."

Viktor muffled a laugh against his hand.

"Whatever the hell you old men are giggling about over there, it can wait. Where the fuck is all the food in this bloody sad excuse for a house?" Yuri spat, throwing a loaf of bread at his brother.

"I'm cooking tonight," Yuuri replied, catching the bread before it hit Viktor.

"Always saving my life!" Viktor crowed, wrapping Yuuri in a hug from behind.

"What's for dinner?"

"Katsudon," Yuuri replied while trying to peel Viktor off his back.

"What's that? Katsudon like Katsuki?" Yuri asked, flopping against the wall.

"It's pork cutlet bowl, it's the best," Viktor added. 

"Couldn't be better than Pirozhki," Yuri sneered.

"We'll see." Viktor narrowed his eyes at his brother.

"Fine, whatever, as long as it's edible. Katsudon better be a better cook than you." Yuri grunted, jabbing a finger into his brother's chest before stalking off calling "BEKA?! Where you at?" into the house.

"Did he just call me...Katsu...don?" Yuuri echoed.

"It's better than Pig, for sure." Chris giggled.

Yuuri sighed and shuffled over to the fridge, he wasn't quite sure what was going on, but he definitely had cooking to get to.

"Viktor, can you help me with the cooking?"

"Yeah, of course, what do you need?"

"Whipped," Chris whispered into Viktor's ear as he passed out of the kitchen.

Viktor scowled and slapped Chris' ass as he passed. 

"Kinky," Chris chirped with a wink, ducking out of the kitchen before Viktor could do any more damage.

"Is he always like that?" Yuuri asked as he started unpackaging the vegetables.

"Who? Chris being provocative? Yes, by the way. Or Yurio being...Yurio? Yeah, things are always like this." Viktor grinned.

Yuuri ignored the twinge in his stomach as he passed the spring onions to Viktor and a chopping board.

 

Yuri padded down the hallway opening one door at a time because he still wasn't sure where Otabek was hiding.

"Not the bathroom, I guess,” he sighed, closing the door.

Not the mysterious door that doesn't open. Maybe Viktor's room. Yuri knocked lightly on the door before Otabek's voice rang out from inside.

"Come in."

"Ah, that's where you were hiding. I was looking for you Beks."

"I was just surfing the web somewhere quiet." 

As he said, Otabek was sitting against Viktor's headboard his laptop in his lap charging from a nearby outlet.

"Check this out." Yuri crowed, pulling the knife, still in its sheath out to hand to Otabek.

Otabek took the blade cautiously. "Why do you have a knife, Yura?" Otabek sighed as he unsheathed the knife.

"Isn't it cool?"

Otabek froze, the knife shaking in his hand as he held it half-sheathed.

"Beka?"

"Yuri, where the hell did you get this?"

"W...what is something wrong?" Yuri nearly stumbled back, nearly falling off the bed altogether.

"Yuri, where the fuck did you get this?" Otabek pulled the knife out in its entirety, his finger tracing the inscription on the black surface of the blade. He wasn't mistaken. There was a crane there. The Black fucking Crane, who else could it be.

"Beka?"

"Y...yes?"

"Is something the matter?"

A small motto was inscribed outside the edge of the crane.

"Virtus, courage. Veritas, truth. And Letalis, lethality," Otabek breathed.

"Holy shit."

Otabek flinched, not even realising Yuri was there.

"Um," Otabek started.

"Do you know the knife's owner?" Yuri asked.

"Well," Otabek paused, wondering if Yuri should know this.

"Well, what? Don't want to tell me?" Yuri crossed his arms and pouted.

"Safe to say, he's not someone whose knife you would want to be on the pointy end of." Otabek shrugged. "A reputation nearly unrivalled. I thought he was dead."

"What is he though?" Yuri pressed, he promised himself he’d tell Otabek it was Yuuri after he got an unaffected opinion.

“A hired gun, I think. He dropped off the face of the Earth two years ago.”

“Okay, I confess.” Yuri raised his hands in surrender. “The knife is Katsudon’s and I somehow doubt he’s a mercenary.”

Otabek paused. “Oh, that makes more sense.” The Kazakh chuckled to himself quietly.

“Care to share?”

“He’s a government operative. He didn’t die, he just quit.”

“Wait, what exactly are you saying? That Katsudon quit being an international spy to be a run-of-the-mill cop?”

“I doubt he was a spy, though he probably had the skill set for it. I was thinking more black ops.”

“Why would he quit though? Seems like an awesome job.”

“Yura,” Otabek sighed as if he was about to start a long lecture. “I doubt it’s an easy life to live. I can imagine a million reasons why someone would want out.”

“Right, sorry,” Yuri ducked his head, a little embarrassed at his own childishness. “Do you think Viktor knows?”

Chris snorted from the door. “A better question is, what doesn’t that bloody brother of yours know?”

“Shit!” Both boys hissed, whipping around to look at Chris.

“While you two old ladies are cooped up in here gossiping, rather loudly I might say, Viktor could use some help in the kitchen. And Otabek, a word.”

Yuri and Otabek stared wordlessly at Chris, still shocked that they had been caught red-handed.

Chris crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. “Scram, kiddo.”

Yuri slipped the knife back into his pocket and scrambled out of the room to the kitchen. When he arrived Viktor was washing some vegetables at the sink, Yuuri nearly pressed to his side as he prepared the breading. Yuri sat himself down at the table quietly, neither Viktor nor Katsudon turning to acknowledge his presence.

He pulled the knife out into his lap drawing the blade half out and admiring the slight shimmer of the metal even in the darkness of being hidden under the table. Yuri ran his finger along the blade slowly, appreciating the sensation of the cool, clean metal under his fingers. Yuri froze. Clean. He wonders for a moment if he were to somehow spray a small amount of Luminol would he see the blood of those felled by this blade, or more accurately by Yuuri Katsuki himself. The knife suddenly felt a thousand times heavier in Yuri's small fingers, as if weighed down by the souls of the dead. Yuri shuddered, maybe he should just give the knife back. That sounded like a great idea. Yuri flinched, shaken out of his stupor by the sound of laughter from his brother. He looked up, instinctively rolling his eyes. 

"Typical," Yuri grunted, sheathing the knife and slipping it back into his pocket.

In front of him, Yuuri and Viktor were practically glued to each other's sides, now breaking apart because Viktor was flicking water at Yuuri, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Viktor, stop it, please!" Yuuri giggled, flicking some flour onto Viktor's shirt.

"My shirt!" Viktor gasped.

"Viktor," Yuuri sighed, "it's just Target."

"I'll show you target!" Viktor splashed more water on him.

"STAHP!" Yuuri squealed while laughing, taking a step away to hip-check Viktor, sending him stumbling.

Viktor's smile slipped off his face as he tripped over his own feet. He probably would've ended up on the floor if it weren't for Yuuri catching him around the waist.

"Viktor? You okay? I'm sorry."

"I...It's okay," Viktor stuttered back, a slight blush dusting his cheek. "I was just a little dizzy."

"I'm sorry, I should be more gentle with you."

"It's alright."

The two remained like that for a few seconds longer, Yuuri's hand firmly around Viktor's waist and their eyes locked.

"AHEM," Yuri coughed. "Hey, old man, dinner isn't going to cook itself so stop fucking around."

Viktor and Yuuri broke apart, the latter still holding a steadying hand to the former's shoulder.

"Yeah, Viktor," Yuuri chuckled, punching Viktor's shoulder.

"You wound me, Yuuri," Viktor whined, clutching his arm.

"Okay, okay, stop whining and sit down and take a break, I'll finish." Yuuri wheeled Viktor to the table and pulled out a chair, effectively shoving him down into the seat.

"I have a better idea." Viktor grinned and turned to look at Yurio. "Since you're so keen on dinner, Yurio, why don't you help the detective? He could use some extra hands."

"U tya sho zhopa sho rozha," Yuri spat across the table as he stood.

"Mm, that's a new one," Yuuri hummed. "What does it mean?"

"It means I'm beautiful!" Viktor interjected before Yuri could open his mouth.

Yuri rolled up his sleeves and walked over to the bench, glancing over all the ingredients.

"I said that his ass is the same as his face," Yuri sneered as he continued where Viktor had finished.

Viktor made a pained whine, lowering his head to the table.

"Well..." Yuuri started, pressing a finger to his lip. "His ass..."

"Don't even THINK about finishing that sentence, Katsudon." Yuri spat.

Yuri sighed and turned back to his work, this is weird. Viktor is and always has been weird, Katsudon is weird, they are both weird.

 

* * *

 

Later,

 

Yuuri chewed on his lip and looked over the familiar chaos in the kitchen. Phichit, ever the perfect host, served dessert to everyone seated. Yuri threw, what Yuuri assumed to be insults, across the table at his brother who looked all too smug. Otabek watched on with a neutral -if not a secretly pained- smile and Chris and Nikolai laughed along heartily. Viktor grinned and laughed like Yuuri had never seen him, he was actually happy. It wasn’t that fake mask he wore so often. This was Viktor’s Minako, Viktor’s Takeshi and Yuuko and Viktor’s Phichit. This was Viktor’s family. Yuuri felt his chest constrict a little as he looked at Yuri, Viktor’s Mari. 

Yuuri clutched a hand to his chest as he backed out of the room. He was the intruder here. Yuuri slipped into the darkness of the corridor and ran his hands along the wall as he walked. He wanted, no, needed somewhere quiet right now. He paused outside his bedroom. Yuuri turned on his heel before he could open the door, it was an absolute mess inside since they'd moved everything they didn't want their guests seeing onto their beds.

Yuuri continued shuffling down the corridor until he got to Viktor's door. Viktor wouldn't mind, right? Yuuri slipped into the room and shut the door quietly behind him. He shuffled across the room until he was next to the heater, dragging Viktor's blanket off his bed and onto the ground. Yuuri bundled himself up in the blanket and leaned against the heater. Yuuri wasn't sure what he was feeling? Jealousy? Longing? Yuuri froze as Viktor's door creaked open.

"Yuuri?"

Yuuri screwed his eyes shut hoping Viktor would just leave him alone and go back to his family.

"Yuuri, I know you're awake." The door closed behind Viktor with a click as he crossed the room.

"Ugh," Yuuri groaned, flipping the blanket over his head and squishing himself further against the heater.

Viktor let out a little huff as he sat down beside Yuuri.

"Don't you want dinner?"

"I'm comfortable."

"Well, lucky for you I brought dinner to you." 

Yuuri very slowly unwrapped his head to look at Viktor who had just brandished a bowl of Katsudon.

"Viktor..."

"You should eat, you put all the effort into cooking this." Viktor pushed the bowl into Yuuri's lap and pressed a pair of chopsticks into his hands.

"Don't you want to eat with Yurio and everyone else? I'm fine by myself."

Viktor shrugged and shifted his own bowl of Katsudon into his lap.

"I'm not going anywhere till I see that you're eating."

Yuuri very slowly and deliberately lifted a single cutlet to his mouth and started chewing while picking a spot on the ground to glare at. As the crumbs melted against his tongue he couldn't help an involuntary groan. Okay, maybe he was a little hungry.

"You happy now? I'm eating." Yuuri rolled his eyes and picked up another cutlet.

"Mm, not exactly. What's bothering you?" Viktor took a bite from his own Katsudon, his eyes never leaving Yuuri's face.

"What makes you think something is bothering me?"

Viktor let out a little huff. "I don't have to be Phichit to know that something is bothering you."

"It's nothing." Yuuri shrugged, curling further in on himself.

"It's not nothing if you're sitting in the dark here curled up against a heater while everyone else is downstairs enjoying dinner."

"That's just it, it's everyone else!" Yuuri sighed and put the Katsudon down. Of course, Viktor didn't get it. "Go enjoy your party, Viktor, they're your-" family, Yuuri didn't get to say.

"Not without you." Viktor forced out, a hand wrapping around Yuuri's wrist.

"Vik-"

"Yuuri, it hurts doesn't it?"

Yuuri's gaze whipped up, Viktor's face an inch from his own. Yuuri froze, swallowing the lump in his throat, he was so goddamn obvious, wasn't he?

"I..." Viktor shuffled back, looking at a loss for words. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't push you." 

"I...It's okay." Yuuri murmured.

Viktor paused and looked out the open window, his hair bathed in moonlight.

"At times like these, I miss my mum a lot too. And Yurio's dad."

"You know, once Yurio leaves we can stay in contact. You know? Skype or something?"

Viktor squealed, the taut line of his mouth melting into a heart-shaped smile.

"That would be amazing, Yuuri!" Viktor cried, crushing Yuuri with a hug. "You're the bestest."

"You are ridiculous," Yuuri sighed with a smile as he accepted the octopus hug.

After a while, Viktor relented and released Yuuri from the clutches of one arm, his other arm still tangled over Yuuri's shoulder as he settled next to him. 

"Do you want to go downstairs now?"

"Mm, maybe in a minute." Yuuri shrugged and dug back into his Katsudon.

Viktor laughed heartily and picked up his own bowl. He shifted his legs until he was digging under Yuuri's blanket, his feet pressed against Yuuri's calves.

"Viktor.."

"My toes are cold!" Viktor whined, cuddling closer to Yuuri.

Yuuri desperately fought the heat crawling up his neck and onto his cheeks. Viktor was sitting close, ridiculously and inappropriately close. Their shoulders were pressed closely together and their legs tangled up under the blanket. The only way they could get closer was if Viktor was sitting in Yuuri's lap. The Japanese man flushed even more furiously at that intrusive thought. 

"LET'S GO EAT WITH EVERYONE!" Yuuri shrieked, leaping to his feet and sending Viktor scrambling.

Yuuri marched right out of the room, not even sparing a glance behind him to Viktor who whined "Yuuri~" repeatedly as Yuuri dashed away, not looking away from the Katsudon in his hands till he was seated firmly at the dinner table. Shit. The dinner table with 5 other people already there. Didn't think this through. Didn't think this through. Didn't think this- 

"Thank you for cooking such a lovely meal, detective," Nikolai commented in the ensuing silence.

Yuuri yanked his head up fast enough to give himself whiplash as he glanced around at all the expectant faces around the table.

"O...oh yeah, no problem. You're welcome. P...Please, I hope you enjoy it I...I'm not a very good chef," Yuuri stuttered out, his eyes meeting Phichit's.

"You okay?" The Thai man mouthed, tilting his head to a side.

Yuuri nodded to his best friend rapidly just as Viktor glided into the kitchen, brushing a hand over Yuuri's shoulder.

"Don't be modest, Yuuri, you're the best cook in this house." Viktor sighed, sliding into the seat next to the Japanese man.

"Well," Yuuri started, hiding the smirk forming on his lips behind his hand. "It's not that hard when neither you nor Phichit can cook at all."

Viktor gasped and everyone else snickered.

"Burrrn Viktor!" Phichit crowed.

"Shut up, you were included too!" Viktor hissed, flicking a napkin at the Thai man.

"Hey, at least I know I'm a bad cook." Phichit huffed, throwing the napkin back at him in disgust.

Yuri watched on with an entertained grin and he continued wolfing down his Katsudon.

 

* * *

 

Later,

 

"Who's up for dessert?" Yuuri groaned as he stood, making his way over to the oven to check on the aforementioned dessert.

"I have a feeling I'm going to regret this," Chris groaned as he raised his hand. "But count me in."

"Here, here!" Viktor crowed.

"Drinks anyone?" Phichit asked as he rolled out of his seat and headed to the fridge. "We've got some beers."

Chris raised his hand. "God knows I don't need these calories."

Phichit pulled a six-pack out of the fridge and dropped it on the table with a thud, making quick work of undoing the packaging and sliding the bottle to Otabek.

"Beka doesn't drink," Yuri snipped, plucking the bottle off the table.

"And neither can you," Viktor chirped, leaning across the table and plucking the bottle from his hands.

"Yeah, but you can't either." Yuuri chuckled, prying the bottle from Viktor's fingers. "Painkillers plus alcohol is a no-no."

"Which means you can't drink either, Yuuri." Phichit laughed, taking the beer from his friend and shoving it into Chris' chest.

"What a mess," Chris sighed, opening the bottle and taking a long swig.

"Anyhoo! Next story." Phichit chirped, "so there was this one time there was this cop that was being a real douche to Yuuri. Like he's always been."

"Phichit, please," Yuuri groaned, setting plates of apple crumble in front of everyone. "Why this story?"

"Hehe, you're not even that involved, Yuuri."

"Oh, whatever." Yuuri groaned, settling at the table with his own plate of dessert.

"So one day, he comes over and he's saying something about Yuuri and Viktor overhears and he is LIVID. So he tells me and our friends and we concoct a plan to get our revenge." The Thai man cackled and rubbed his hands together.

"Oh dear," Nikolai whispered.

"Okay okay, so Viktor here hatched this brilliant plan to spike the guy's water with laxatives."

Yuuri groaned even louder and let his head drop to the table.

"So we got the stuff together and set up the stuff we needed and we even made an excuse that we had to use an interrogation room with a one-way mirror- coz you know so we could watch- and it was all set up."

"Here it comes," Yuuri groaned, shovelling more apple crumble into his mouth.

"Slow down," Viktor laughed, leaning back with an arm draped over the back of Yuuri's chair. "You'll choke."

"You know what? That sounds like a lovely alternative to reliving this moment."

"ANYWAY!" Phichit interrupted loudly. "Okay so, he comes in and they sit down. It's just Yuuri, Viktor and Douchey McDoucheface in the room. So he sips his water and it begins, I don't know, maybe 15 minutes later?"

Yuri leaned forward on his elbows in rapt attention, Otabek next to him momentarily putting his fork down, a small curl at the end of his lip indicating a smile.

"He started farting and it was loud enough that both Yuuri and Viktor flinched. Oh my god the look on his face as he apologised."

Viktor snickered now. "It was great."

"The second-hand embarrassment was killer!" Yuuri sighed, stabbing at the last few crumbs on his plate.

"Yuuri, Yuuri, here have mine Solnyshko." Viktor chuckled as he pushed his plate over between them.

Yuuri mumbled something under his breath before grudgingly picking up his fork and starting on the half-eaten crumble, not noticing the frozen Russians opposite him.

Yuri stared Otabek straight in the eyes and mouthed, "did he just call Katsudon his sunshine ???"

Chris, whose grasp of Russian was relatively primitive, still knew exactly what he'd just heard and shared a loaded glance with Nikolai. Phichit, whether he had seen the subtle change or not, continued to plough through his story.

"It got worse to the point where he was just farting every few seconds and like we were all laughing our heads off behind the glass I don't know how Viktor managed to keep such a straight face. So he's like," Phichit puffed up his chest and stuck his lips out. "Sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me today."

Yuri was face down on the table laughing now and Viktor trying and failing to suppress his laughter.

"So he looks over at Viktor who has got this look on which tips him off that someone might've spiked his drink. Vik, show them the look." Phichit howled, slapping the table in front of Viktor.

"Okay, okay, calm down." Viktor sighed, sucking in a deep breath before bringing his face back to old times.

Yuuri fought the urge to gasp or sigh at the familiar sight before him. Viktor’s face was held in a neutral, if not naturally smug smile not too far from how Viktor looked and acted when they’d first met. Cool, calm and collected. Yuuri knew better now, Viktor was a dork...or was he? 

“Yuuri is this right?” Viktor purred, his voice low in Yuuri’s ear.

Yuuri yelped and flinched away, trying to make a quick recovery.

"It's not right," Yuuri sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. "You've lost your touch, Viktor."

"Okay, ignoring the fact that I have like five stitches in my forehead and I'm not wearing my usual ensemble," Viktor huffed, momentarily breaking out of character to pout. 

"Alright, go."

Viktor sighed and removed any sense of humour from his face. Of course, he was smiling, but it wasn't a smile of entertainment. More like an 'I could kill you without even opening my mouth' smile. Yuuri swallowed a lump in his throat, god, why is that such a turn-on? Yuuri has just about given up fighting the battle that he's not attracted to Viktor, he's hot and he knows it.

"Better?" Viktor asked.

"Wait." Yuuri reached out and fixed Viktor's fringe, admiring how soft the hair was as he gently carded his fingers through. "Okay, lights camera action."

Viktor slowly and dramatically (naturally) to face their guests from Russia. Chris whistled lowly.

"You look like you came straight out of a movie," The Swiss man purred, winking.

"Why thank you," Viktor laughed.

"Anyway, when he saw that face his eyes widened in realisation and he started by saying 'if this was your doing I swear-' and then it happened. He ripped a huge one that literally lasted for 5 seconds. And that was the last straw, he just dashed right out of the room."

"He had it coming," Vikor chuckled as he rolled his eyes at Yurio who was nearly crying from laughter.

"And so, we never saw Douchey McDoucheface ever again and Yuuri handcuffed Viktor to tables for an entire week."

“He deserved it,” Yuuri huffed under his breath.

"God bless for that," Chris cheered, raising his beer. "With the conclusion of that lovely story, thank you Phichit." Chris threw the Thai man a wink. "Shall we move this party elsewhere?"

"What a fabulous idea. Living room, everyone? Popcorn and a movie."

"Ugh, I'm picking." Yuri spat as he crawled out his seat with a groan, a hand clutched to his stomach. "Lilia is going to kill me for breaking my diet."

"Viktor, a word," Chris whispered, catching the Russian by his wrist.

"Yeah?" Viktor smiled, tugging on Chris' iron hold.

"In private," Chris forced from between his teeth.

"Oh my god, you guys have Just Dance. OI KATSUDON I CHALLENGE YOU!" Yuri crowed from the living room.

"Chris, can it wait?" Viktor whispered back.

"We don't have enough remotes," Yuuri stated, trying to escape the challenge.

"Don't wuss out-" Yurio snapped.

"There's a spare in the cupboard, I'll go get it!" Phichit chirped.

Phichit leapt off the couch and dashed into the kitchen, he was pretty sure he put it either in their bedroom or in Viktor's bedroom. Instead, he ran straight into Viktor and Chris who seemed to be in the middle of a tense conversation.

"O..Oh Viktor, sorry. Is something wr-"

"The remote is in my room, I'll go get it for you. Why don't you go back and try to calm Yurio down, he looks like he's about to combust." Viktor plastered a charming smile on his face and placed a firm hand on Phichit's shoulder.

"Okay," Phichit muttered, shooting the pair a dubious look before returning to the living room.

"Come with me," Viktor hissed, dragging his friend into the darkness of the corridor, pausing just outside his room. Yurio's racket should be more than enough cover.

"I brought what you wanted." Chris reached into his pocket and brandished a black box, small enough that it could comfortably fit in his palm. "Been sweating just carrying it around with me all this time."

Viktor let out a sigh of relief as he closed his finger around the box. "I could never repay you for this, Chris."

Chris tugged the box from his grasp. "You can start by giving me some fucking answers, Viktor. I had to jump through a lot of hoops to get this on such short notice."

"Chris, please."

"Don't please me. This," Chris shook the box in front of Viktor's face, causing him to flinch and stumble back. "has more bodyguards than Yurio does when he has an outing these days." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUNNNN WHAT’S IN THE BOX?? See next Monday!
> 
> You’ll be glad to know that from now on updates will be Mondays weekly! WHOOP
> 
> To those of you that wished me luck with my finals, thank you very much. It’s touching that you care so much for someone so far away. While my grades weren’t absolutely amazing I think I tried my hardest and I did my best and that’s all I could’ve asked for. Not enough as some would say, but for someone it’s never going to be enough.
> 
> On a brighter note! Tomorrow I’m getting my nose cauterised (what is with me and medical procedures lately?) so it’ll help stop the pretty regular nosebleeds I’ve been getting! FEAR NOT, I SOLDIER ON!
> 
> Enough about me, if y’all haven’t heard, Australia is passing same-sex marriage through Parliament right about now so it’ll be legal by next year. Hurray!!!!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the update and please leave kudos, comments, subscribe or bookmark for more!


	35. Reunion (Part 4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is an absolute monster clocking in at more than 6K words and was pretty crazy to write so that's why it's a little late. 
> 
> Enjoy the fluff while it lasts : D

_Last Chapter:_

 

_"I brought what you wanted." Chris reached into his pocket and brandished a black box, small enough that it could comfortably fit in his palm. "Been sweating just carrying it around with me all this time."  
_

 

_Viktor let out a sigh of relief as he closed his finger around the box. "I could never repay you for this, Chris."_

_Chris tugged the box from his grasp. "You can start by giving me some fucking answers, Viktor. I had to jump through a lot of hoops to get this on such short notice."_

_"Chris, please."_

_"Don't please me. This," Chris shook the box in front of Viktor's face, causing him to flinch and stumble back. "has more bodyguards than Yurio does when he has an official outing."_

 

* * *

 

"What do you want me to tell you?"

 

"What's going on with you and Katsuki?"

Viktor opened his mouth as if to say something, letting his jaw open and close for a few seconds before settling on just shutting his damn mouth.

"Talk to me, Viktor," Chris sighed, squeezing Viktor's shoulder gently.

"I don't know, please, just give it to me."

"No. Fucking hell, Viktor,  you wanted me to fly this halfway across the world to give it to a cop? A cop. Let that sink in."

"Those were my last words and Yuuri is not just a cop!" Viktor hissed back.

"Then what is he? This is possibly your most prized possession and you want to give it to your watchdog?"

"He's my friend, goddamnit Chris!"

"I'm your friend too and Otabek and Georgi and Mila."

"That's...I...Yuuri, he's different." Viktor murmured, his voice even quieter.

"You like him. You actually like like him," Chris whispered, punctuating every word.

Viktor raised his eyes from the ground slowly to meet Chris' eyes. They were the eyes of a frightened and vulnerable child, eyes which Chris had only seen the few times his best friend let his guard down. When he drowned in enough alcohol that he lay prone on the tiles of his bathroom floor surrounded by shattered bottles of vodka and his own blood and tears.

"Chris...I..." Viktor choked, his voice breaking.

"Viktor," Chris sighed, "I don't know where to start."

"Then don't start."

"He's a cop, Viktor."

"I know, I know, it's stupid I know."

"He can't love you back."

"Love," Viktor spat, pressing his head to Chris' shoulder. "Don't be silly, no one could love me."

"Oi, Viktor!" Yuri screamed from the living room. "What's taking so long with the remote!"

"Sorry, I'm looking for it!" Viktor yelled back, before turning to Chris. "Have you had enough of torturing me?" Viktor asked as a quick mask covered his face, leaving only a teasing smile.

"Vik-"

"No time!" Viktor chirped as he ducked into his room, rustling around for a few minutes before dashing back out with the extra Wii remote in hand.

Chris let out a long-suffering sigh and followed Viktor back to the living room, trying his best to put on a happy smile.

"Here it is, everyone," Viktor announced, holding the remote up in victory before tossing it to Yuri. 

"YAS!" Yuri and Phichit crowed, getting ready to set up the game.

Yuuri paused and walked over to Viktor. 

"Hey, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, but man my feet are cold," Viktor forced a smile.

Yuuri furrowed his eyebrows, he'd known Viktor long enough to figure out when he was being genuine or not. "I'll get you a blanket."

A few seconds later Yuuri returned with a blanket, unfurling it over Viktor before bending down to tuck the blanket under his feet. 

"Better?"

"Thanks, Yuuri."

"Hurry up, Katsudon. I've aged!" Yurio growled, tossing the spare remote at Yuuri.

Yuuri paused and looked back at Viktor who had turned to chat to Nikolai.

"You're doing alright, Viktor?" The older man asked.

"Yes, yes." Viktor smiled reassuringly.

 

Yuuri took the room by storm, impressing even Yurio despite being injured on one arm. Viktor watched the proceedings with a content smile on his face, he was happy enough not to participate knowing he would probably fall over on his face if he tried.

"Viktor," Yuuri crowed. "Dance with me, I know you want to."

"Yuuri, I can't. I'll probably fall and die."

"I'll hold you." Yuuri dropped to his knees in front of the Russian with a handheld dramatically over his heart. "I'll never let you fall, I promise."

Viktor hummed and pressed a finger to his lip as if debating.

"We'll go slow, I promise. I'll be gentle on your deteriorating body, old man."

"Oh, shut up," Viktor hissed, slapping at Yuuri's arm. "Pull me up."

Yuuri tugged Viktor up to his feet and pulled him closer, placing a gentle hand on his waist.

"Something slow?" Viktor repeated, letting one hand rest on Yuuri's shoulder and the other pressed into Yuuri's hand.

"Yeah." Yuuri gently pulled Viktor into a slow dance despite the pop music pulsing around them. "You okay?"

"Mm, just a little dizzy. Can I lean on your shoulder?"

Yuuri nodded, turning his head a little to hide the blush blooming across his cheeks as Viktor tucked his head into the crook of Yuuri’s neck.

‘Oh my god.’ Chris mouthed, fanning himself and pointing at the oblivious pair.

 

* * *

 

In the dead of night,

 

 

Yuuri shuffled out of his room and down the corridor, his eyes barely adjusted to the darkness from staring at his phone for so long. He squinted, not being able to see much without his glasses on, but he was pretty sure he saw something glowing up from near the ground.

"Y...urio?"

"That's not my name," the teen grunted.

"What are you doing up? It's late." Yuuri shuffled over to the teen and peered over his shoulder.

Yurio snorted and gave a shrug. "Jetlag. I'd usually be awake by now and I'm going home tomorrow anyway." 

"Ah, yeah. Why are you sitting out here in the corridor?"

"I don't want to wake my grandpa, he's napping." 

"That's reasonable."

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Yuri spoke up.

"Why are you awake?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"Oh...kay."

"Um, Yuri, would you like something to drink? Hot chocolate or milk maybe?"

"Uh, whatever, lead the way."

Yuuri nodded and guided them towards the kitchen, the only sound being the nearly silent patter of their footsteps against the carpet.

"Hot choc?" Yuuri whispered, checking that Viktor, Chirs and Otabek who were sleeping in the living room hadn't been woken up.

"Yeah," Yuri whispered back, joining Yuuri beside the bench and hauling himself up onto the table top to watch.

Yuuri pulled the hot chocolate mix out of the cupboard and shuffled over to the fridge, cracking it open just wide enough to get what he needed knowing how loud and creaky the hinge could be. He brought the so-called ingredients back to the bench and set out pouring some milk out and heating it in the microwave.

"Lukewarm full cream milk," Yuuri murmured as he took the milk out of the microwave.

"Precisely three and a half heaped teaspoons of chocolate." Yuuri reached across the bench for the jam he'd removed from the fridge. "A dollop of jam. Which is kind of disgusting."

Yuuri reached for another jar pressed against the wall, cracking it open with a sigh. "A fuck tonne of marshmallows." Yuuri gingerly piled a hand full of little marshmallows onto the cup.

Yuuri picked up a small shaker and gave it a few taps over the marshmallows. "Sprinkle of cinnamon." 

Yuuri pulled a nondescript bag from his cupboard. "And finally, thank god, just a drizzle of chocolate flakes."

"Uh..." Yuri started, staring at the finished product.

"Did I guess right?" Yuuri muffled his laughter against his hand.

"How did you know how I like my hot chocolate?" Yuri asked dubiously as he plucked a marshmallow off and popped it into his mouth.

"Your brother made it for me like this a few times, almost like it's the only way he knows how to. Interestingly though, the first time I asked him he said he hated hot choc, but that he always made it for someone else. Figured it was you."

"Your powers of deduction are exceptional," Yuri remarked dryly, "no wonder you're a detective."

Yuuri laughed along, covering his mouth with his hands. "Do you want to move elsewhere? I feel like we're going to wake someone up here."

"Yeah, sure." Yuri shrugged and took a sip of his hot choc.

"Let's go to the laundry."

"Huh?" Yuri scoffed, "the laundry?"

"Yeah, it's warmer there too, trust me." Yuuri patted the younger man on the back and pushed him towards the hallway. 

Yuri followed the Japanese man's lead hesitantly, standing aside once they'd entered the room and the door was shut behind them. He watched as Yuuri shuffled over to a cupboard and pulled out some blankets. 

"Here, sit next to the heater, I guarantee it's worth it," Yuuri murmured over the quiet hum of the machines.

Yuri followed the older man's lead and settled against the thin space heater on the wall before wrapping his blanket around his body and pulling his phone out.

"Do you uh...have the wifi password?"

Yuuri chuckled and glanced over. "No, sorry, we don't even have wifi here. Security reasons. Phichit and I have to use our own data from our phones.”

“Ugh, that sucks,” Yuri groaned, dropping his phone into the folds of his blanket.

“Roaming is expensive, huh? I can hotspot you, if you want?”

“Yes,” Yuri blurted. “Please.”

Yuuri pulled out his own phone and tapped a few buttons.

“Pass me your phone.”

Yuri handed over his phone wordlessly, watching as the Japanese man connected it to his own network. He couldn’t get a handle on this guy, Katsuki. An ex-figure skater, Yuri had yet to actually check that up -but he would once Yuuri gave his phone back- who was also an ex-mercenary or hired gun or something like that who worked for the government? Who had a dangerous reputation, to top it off, that could make Otabek pale. He was supposed to be some dangerous badass, but in reality, he’s just some dork that enjoys cooking and dancing and curling up against heaters. Despite everything, he seemed remarkably...nice? Even to Viktor.

“Yuri? Is something wrong?” Yuuri asked, snapping the Russian out of his stupor.

“Oh, uh, yeah.”

“You were staring is all,” Yuuri tilted his head to a side. “Is there something on my face?"

"Oh, nah, I was just wondering..."

“Yeah?” Yuuri asked when he didn’t continue.

“How does Viktor live here?”

Yuuri blinked a few times. “What do you mean?”

“Like, what kind of restrictions? What does he do all day without the internet?”

“Well, we’re not home most of the time and to be honest we haven’t had this much of a break in ages. We’re down at the precinct all day and even when we get back here we’re still working. Or at least until someone falls asleep and then we’re all supposed to call it quits.”

“That’s all you do all day?”

“When we do have time off Viktor likes to read books, newspapers, whatever we can get and we watch skating streams whenever they happen. Especially yours.”

“Whatever,” Yuri grunted, rolling his eyes as he took a large gulp of his hot choc.

The two sat in a comfortable silence for a while.

“Viktor, he’s got a lot of freedom here, hasn’t he? He could be in jail.”

“The freedom he has is earned. By now I don’t think anyone is afraid of him really running off. You know when he first came in we used to keep him handcuffed and more or less sequestered in the one room all day.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow. “And now what? You let him loose as he pleases?”

Yuuri chuckled, “the chaos would be even greater, but no. He’s kind of free to walk around as long as one of us is with him.”

“He seems...happy here somehow.”

“I doubt it,” Yuuri replied quietly. “I think he’s glad to see you.”

“I guess.” Yuri rapped his finger against the empty mug in his hand. “I think I’m going to go try to get some sleep.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

The pair packed away their blankets then slipped back into the silence of the house. Yuuri walked the teen back to Viktor’s room, then offered to take the mug of him, dropping it off at the sink before dragging himself back to his own room. He let himself in and slipped into bed as quietly as possible, hoping not to wake Phichit.

“Yuuri?” Phichit mumbled, shifting to face Yuuri.

“Hey, did I wake you?” Yuuri whispered back.

“No. I wasn’t sleeping.” Phichit sat up and stretched. “Can’t sleep. I’m going to the bathroom.”

"Okay. I'm sleeping, goodnight."

Phichit rolled out of bed and patted blindly at Yuuri's form under his blanket. "Goodnight."

 

Phichit stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later with a sigh as he leant against the wall. The house was eerily silent except for a single sound. The quiet rustle of fabric folding and moving with an almost imperceptible breeze that brushed over the goosebumps on Phichit's arms. Did someone open a window? Phichit shuffled down the hallway towards the living room, scanning the room as he came upon it. The glint of metal sent his hand flying to his hip, grasping pointlessly for a gun that wasn't there. Thankfully, his reaction was unwarranted. Phichit slowly let his hand drop back to his side and took the sight in front of him in. 

Viktor sat curled up in the window alcove, his knees tucked under his chin as he fiddled with a silver ring which sparkled under his fingers. He'd cracked the window open a smidge, letting a small breeze billow the curtains which he'd enveloped himself in, almost like the veil of a bride. 

"Viktor?" Phichit whispered.

Viktor flinched and rolled the metal into his palm.

"Phichit?"

"Hi, I'm cold. Can't we close the window? You're going to give yourself a cold."

"Hi, Cold, I'm Viktor." Viktor parroted.

"You did not just-"

"Dad joke." Viktor grinned and flashed his charming smile before turning to close the window.

Phichit brushed the curtains aside and joined Viktor inside his makeshift teepee.

"So, what are you hiding there?" Phichit gestured to Viktor's hand.

Viktor seemed to freeze and pale at this, his smile slipping off his face.

"It's uh." Viktor slowly opened his palm to Phichit. "My mother's ring."

Phichit nearly gasped at the shimmering silver treasure just in front of him. "It's beautiful."

A large diamond was set in the centre alongside a few smaller crystals in the shape of a snowflake that shimmered in Viktor's palm as if it were real.

"Yeah, it means a lot to me. Chris brought it with him for me." Gingerly, Viktor picked up the ring between his index and thumb, turning it slowly in the moonlight.

Phichit watched curiously, several cogs rolling into motion in his brain. Viktor asked Chris to bring the ring? No, wait, that wasn't right. Viktor had asked Yuuri to ask Chris to bring the ring, but what had Yuuri said Viktor's instructions were? Before Viktor's near-death experience, he had told Yuuri to tell Chris to give Yuuri Anna's ring. 

 

Wait. 

 

Phichit's gaze flickered upwards at the Russian who was still concentrating on the ring. Viktor wanted Yuuri to have the ring? His mother's engagement ring? 

 

L...like a marriage proposal?! N...NO WAY!?

 

"I'm going to bed," Phichit choked up, his face going red as he scrambled away from Viktor.

"Oh, goodnight?" Viktor called after him.

 

* * *

 

The next morning,

 

 

Everyone woke up fairly late, but after lunch, courtesy of Yuuri again and some coffee, they were awake enough to head out to the airport.

"I wish I could take you to the airport," Viktor sighed.

"You can pick up my bag and take it to the car," Yuri mumbled sleepily, leaning heavily against his brother.

Viktor glanced at Yuuri, a silent request for permission.

"Don't leave my line of sight." Yuuri nodded and leant back against the door frame, watching as Viktor dragged Yuri to the waiting car.

"Do you have a second, Yuuri?" 

Yuuri turned to track the voice, his eyes falling upon Chris' hazel eyes.

"Phichit, keep an eye on things for me." Yuuri nodded to his partner.

"Yessir," Phichit chirped, picking up Nikolai's bag and helping the older man out to the car.

"I'll make this quick."

"Okay?"

"Viktor is not nearly as tough or strong as he makes himself seem."

Yuuri nodded hesitantly. "And you're telling me this, why?"

"Viktor has a fragile heart. Be gentle, Yuuri Katsuki." With that, Chris turned on his heel and strode away, only stopping once to hug Viktor and turn and blow Yuuri a kiss.

Yuuri shuddered and made to duck back into the house only to be captured from behind by Phichit.

"You can't escape a kiss once it's been blown, Yuuri. Hold tight, here it comes." Phichit reached out and pinched Yuuri's cheek. "Look! There it is, not so bad after all?"

"Get off me!" Yuuri laughed, shoving his friend off. "Chris is so weird!"

"I like him." Phichit pouted.

"NO-"

"He's hot."

"BUT-"

"Not as hot as Viktor, I know, I read your mind," Phichit chirped and batted his lashes at Yuuri innocently.

"No that's not what I was- ARGH. I HATE YOU!"

Phichit dived back into the house, screaming as Yuuri hucked whatever he could get his hands on at him.

"Vik- GET YOUR STUPID ASS BACK HERE RIGHT NOW, PHICH! Viktor? Oi, Viktor? Come inside, you're gonna catch a cold." 

Yuuri watched as Viktor turned from the sidewalk, his brother long gone.

"I'm coming."

 

* * *

 

That night,

 

 

"Phichit?"

"Yes? What can I howdy-dowdy do for yowdy?"

Viktor rolled his eyes before collapsing onto the couch beside Phichit. "If you stop talking like that, I might tell you." Viktor deadpanned.

"I apologise and I am here for you," Phichit whispered, picking up Viktor's hand. "But, wait." The Thai man dropped the hand. "Why aren't you asking Yuuri?"

"Does it matter?" Viktor huffed.

"You always ask Yuuri to do things."

"I don't, anyway, just help me out here. Plus, Yuuri is in the shower."

"Okay." Phichit agreed, not really accepting that weak-ass excuse.

"I want to write a will."

"Oh."

"Can you, I don't know, arrange that for me?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course. But, I also have a favour to ask of you."

"Spill."

"It's Yuuri's birthday and I wanted to give him a little surprise."

"No!" Viktor squeaked, slapping a hand over his mouth.

"What?"

"I meant, I had no idea."

"Well, I don't think Yuuri remembers either, so it's a surprise!" 

"What were you thinking?" Viktor grinned and leaned in closer.

"Okay, so...."

 

Later that night,

 

Viktor tiptoed quietly past the living room where Yuuri was bundled up on the couch watching an old re-run of a skating competition. Distracted, thankfully. Once past the danger zone of the living room, Viktor walked a little easier to the front door. He unlatched the door chain as slowly as possible and turned the deadlocks one at a time, hoping Yuuri wouldn't hear the light thud as each disengaged.

"Phichit?" Yuuri called, causing the Russian to flinch and nearly slam his forehead against the door.

"Yeah?"

"What's taking you so long?"

"Just a second!" Phichit called from the kitchen.

Viktor wiped the sweat from his forehead and made quick work of the last few locks. Cursed locks. He pushed the door open just a little and stuck his head out.

"Hoot, hoot," he called quietly into the darkness of the night.

To his right, a bush rustled, then a dark figure stood from it.

"Oh, thank god, Smith, hurry up."

Smith, dressed from head to toe in black, stumbled out of the bush and shoved the plastic bag into his waiting hands.

"You better get this right, Nikiforov," he hissed before leaping off the porch and back into the darkness, presumably to sprint back to the monitoring house before he froze.

Viktor ducked back into the house and closed a few of the locks after him. That could wait. He tiptoed back past the living room and further down the corridor then slipped into the kitchen.

"What the hell took you so long?" Phichit hissed.

"There were more locks than I remember," Viktor replied, sliding the keychain back into Phichit's hand.

"Excuses, excuses."

Viktor stuck his tongue out. "Go distract Yuuri, I'll finish up."

"Kay, don't burn the kitchen down."

Once Phichit was gone, Viktor turned back to the plastic bag and peeled it open gently. He removed the Uncle Bob's Cupcakes carton and opened it up gingerly before making quick work of removing the candles and gas lighter. 

"Okay, there's a dozen candles and one cupcake, but Phichit said one candle only. No, surely I can...No that's not going to work," Viktor sighed and placed the single candle into the centre of the cupcake and lit it.

"Okay," he sucked in a deep breath. "Showtime."

Viktor walked slowly into the living room, praying to god Phichit was distracting Yuuri as he was supposed to. As Phichit said he would be, Yuuri was facing away, looking rather boredly at something that Phichit was explaining animatedly on his phone. 

Viktor waited till he was standing right behind the pair before coughing loudly. "Yuuri."

Yuuri turned, his eyes slowly widening.

"Happy Birthday?" 

"Surprise!" Phichit added, wrapping an arm around his friend as Viktor placed the cupcake in his lap.

"I forgot it was my own birthday," Yuuri laughed breathlessly. "Not the first time actually, Minako always used to- OH SHIT."

"Yuuri?!" Viktor gasped.

"Minako, shit I forgot I was supposed to go to her house today-"

"Nope, I talked to her." Phichit grinned and patted him on the shoulder.

"Oh, what'd you say?"

"I said we were out on police business that absolutely could not wait and that we'd be back tomorrow."

Yuuri let out a long-suffering sigh. "I'm going to have to apologise. A lot. Oh well."

"Until then," Phichit crowed, lifting a bottle of wine from under the couch. "I can drink. Not you two, just me."

"Yuuri, eat the cupcake, it'll get cold," Viktor chuckled.

"Yeah, thanks for surprising me. So that's why you've been acting so suspiciously."

"Yeah, yeah, sure you knew." Phichit grinned and shoved Yuuri gently.

"Make a wish and blow out the candle, Yuuri."

Yuuri blew out the singular candle, closing his eyes for a moment.

"What'd you ask for?" Viktor plucked the candle out and set it aside.

"It's supposed to be a secret Viktor," Yuuri scoffed, his eyes sparkling as he took the first bite. "Oh my god, it's so good, soooo good," he groaned.

Viktor watched on with a smile, Yuuri looked happy, so happy. Viktor brought a hand up to his chest. Happy, huh.

 

 

Even Later that night,

 

Phichit snored even louder, sending Viktor and Yuuri into fits of laughter where they were curled up on the ground in blankets. 

"He's out cold."

"Drank himself out cold," Yuuri added.

The two laughed a little more, nearly collapsing onto each other. 

"Good times," Viktor sighed, wiping his eyes.

"Yeah," Yuuri chuckled, unconsciously curling closer to Viktor.

"Yuuri," Viktor started, suddenly feeling more sober.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for calling Yurio and bringing him down here."

"You don't need to thank me."

"I do, you didn't have to do what you did. So, thank you."

Yuuri shrugged. "Honestly, I did what I hoped anyone would have done for me."

"Honestly, huh?"

"Yeah, honest."

"On the note of being honest, Yuuri. I want to be more honest with you. You've already found out my greatest secret, so I suppose there's not much more to hide."

Yuuri turned and looked at the Russian, surprise written across his face.

"Okay? Is there something you wanted to tell me?"

Viktor nibbled on his lower lip. "Yes."

Yuuri shuffled so he was turned to face Viktor. "Go ahead, I'm listening."

"You've met Chris before."

"Oh no," Yuuri squeaked.

"You pole danced together, that night in DC. He's jealous, quite frankly, because you were better than him."

Yuuri tugged the blanket over his head and moaned, "that's so embarrassing."

"It wasn't that bad, trust me."

Yuuri yanked his head from underneath the blanket. "We are not talking about DC. Never, ever. It was by far the lowest point of my life and not because I slept with you." Yuuri flushed at the last sentence.

"Yeah, that is pretty low..." Viktor winked at Yuuri, causing the other man to lean across the small gap and slap him.

"That's not funny, Viktor!"

Viktor chuckled and let Yuuri pummel his arm jokingly.

"In all seriousness, there are some things I want you to know."

"Oh?" Yuuri paused and brought his hands back down to his lap.

"Sara Crispino," Viktor started, letting the name hang heavy in the air.

Yuuri visibly tensed, his hands fisting against the blanket bunched up at his waist.

"She was my friend."

"What?"

"She was my friend and so was Michele to an extent, though definitely less so. If I have time I'll tell you the story of how we met someday. It was hilarious." Viktor took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"Viktor? Is something wrong?"

"It was my fault that Michele died. I went to Russia to see Yuri in Russian Nationals and because of that I had someone else meet up with Michele to do a deal and things went south and some trigger happy fool shot the kid. He had a temper always did, but it wasn't his fault. He was just a kid."

"Viktor..."

"There's more."

Yuuri let out a long-suffering sigh.

"Crispino is not after me."

"You're insane," Yuuri choked.

"She might've been at one point, but she's not anymore. After she found out about my brother's existence she's been looking for him."

"Wait, so that's why you needed to keep Yuri a secret?"

"Yes. She wants an eye for an eye and killing me isn't that."

"Oh man," Yuuri sighed, covering his face with his hands. "If I'd known I wouldn't have brought him all way out here. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I'm sure they took precautions."

"Otabek was armed to the teeth."

Viktor laughed nervously. "Yeah, about that..."

"If we're being honest. I know you were the one that sent Otabek to save me that time, so, thank you."

"Oh, no? Me?"

"Viktor, you can stop pretending, I know it was you," Yuuri deadpanned.

"No, it wasn't me." Viktor made an exaggerated wink.

"Why are you like this?" Yuuri laughed.

"Okay, more confessions." 

"Right, let me just get comfortable."

"Sorry I stabbed you that time." Viktor held up another finger.

"Uh, it's okay you made up for it other times. You saved me, at the warehouse from the fire."

"Yeah...that was..."

"Crazy..." Yuuri finished.

"We've been through some pretty intense stuff, huh?"

"Yeah..."

"Yuuri?"

"Yeah?"

"I want to learn Japanese, seriously."

"Oh, okay. I want to learn Russian."

"Teach me." Viktor grinned.

"If you will do the same," Yuuri replied in Russian.

"Okay, it's not fair if you already know the language!"

"I only know a little," Yuuri laughed.

“Hey, Yuuri...do you remember that toaster in the break room that...set itself on fire?” Viktor scratched the back of his head and smiled sheepishly.

“NO. You did not?! We had to use the broken one-sided toaster for nearly an entire month! VIKTOR, ANSWER ME!”

 

* * *

 

Just over three weeks later on Christmas Day,

 

 

"Viktor, hurry up. We're going to be late."

"I'm coming!" Viktor shuffled out of his bedroom. "Remind me why we're wearing really ugly Christmas sweaters?"

"It's a family tradition, Viktor."

"Fashion God, forgive me for I have sinned." Viktor held a hand over his chest and glanced towards the sky.

"Stop being dramatic," Yuuri sighed as he pulled Viktor out the front door.

"I am not being dramatic." Viktor pouted as he shut the door behind him.

"You are the Queen of Drama, Viktor." Yuuri unlocked the car and glanced over at the crew that was ready to tail them.

"Am not," Viktor replied as he opened the back door.

"Are so. Why are you sitting at the back?"

Viktor shrugged. "I can stretch my legs back here."

"If you say so."

Not soon after the pair arrived at Minako's house and strode up to the front door, wine and other presents in their arms.

"Ready?" Yuuri asked, reaching forward to press the doorbell.

"I was born ready." Viktor flashed Yuuri his signature grin, but it seemed genuine this time.

Moments later the door flew open and the three triplets flew out their arms wrapping firmly around Viktor's legs.

"Uncle Viktor!" They chorused.

"Be gentle girls, he's getting old," Yuuri snickered as he abandoned the Russian to the wrath of the children.

"Solnyshko, you wound me!" Viktor whined.

“Some things don’t change,” Minako smirked from her vantage point in the hallway. “Yuuri how’s your arm?”

“Fine.”

“Viktor, how’s your head doing?”

Viktor tried his best to usher the triplets back into the house.

“Konbanwa, Minako-san. O genki desuka?” Viktor nodded towards Minako.

“Oho, did Yuuri start teaching you Japanese? Wow, thank you for asking. I am doing well.”

“Vitya, uzhin gotov!” Yuuri called from the kitchen.

“Oh my god is Yuuri speaking Russian?!” Yuuko squeaked. 

“Dinner is ready, as Yuuri said.” Viktor winked at the excited woman. “Let’s eat, I’m starving.”

Dinner was as loud and merry as usual with a few glasses of wine passed among the adults, nothing too much because of the kids of course. After dinner and dessert were aside the family settled down in the living room getting ready to watch a 'classic Christmas movie' as Yuuri described it.

"Viktor, could you get me a glass of water," Yuuri whined and wrapped an arm around Viktor's waist. "Pretty please?"

"You don't have to ask twice, solnyshko." Viktor bounced off the couch and padded towards the kitchen.

His gaze swept across the entire kitchen, not one clean glass in sight, how curious.

"Minako, where are the clean glasses?" Viktor called.

"The 3rd draw in the cabinet on the left."

"Thanks." 

Viktor turned and dug through the cupboard. Geez, why were all the glasses at the very back? Once he retrieved and filled the glass he returned to the living room as quickly as he could without sloshing the water everywhere. As he turned the corner his froze on the spot, eyes widening.

"Pssh, he's here!" The triplets stage-whispered.

"W...what's going on here?" 

Viktor took a step closer to the coffee table that the family was gathered around and the cake that Minako was desperately attaching candles to.

"Distract him, Yuuri," she hissed.

Yuuri leapt to his feet and padded over to Viktor, tugging him into a hug and pulling a Santa hat over his hair.

"Merry Christmas, Viktor, and happy birthday." Yuuri grinned and stepped aside.

Viktor shakily brushed his fringe out of his eyes and took a step closer to the table before half collapsing into a bunch on the floor.

"What?"

"Surprise!" The triplets cried, tossing some confetti into the air.

"Viktor? Why are you crying?" Axel asked, leaning down to look the man in the eye.

"I'm not crying- oh, yep, I am." Viktor laughed breathlessly and wiped at his eyes.

"Vitya? You okay?" Yuuri asked, pressing a gentle hand to Viktor's shoulder.

Viktor yanked Yuuri into a hug and pressed a kiss into his black locks. "I am doing great. I'm definitely not crying. Thank you for organising this, I...I haven't celebrated my birthday in so long," Viktor hiccuped.

Yuuri rubbed reassuring circles on the older man's back. 

"Happy birthday, Viktor."

"Time for presents!" The girls cooed, pressing a haphazardly wrapped package into Viktor's stomach.

"Oh, girls, you didn't have to," Viktor laughed, leaning away from Yuuri for a moment to open the present.

"Mum helped us pick it out," Lutz added as she wrapped her arms around his wide shoulders.

"Oh my god...is this a poodle tissue holder?" Viktor shrieked, his mouth moulding into a heart-shaped smile.

"And, we're in his heart." Axel grinned.

 

Later that night,

 

Viktor and Yuuri pulled up outside the safe house just minutes from midnight.

"Yuuri, any plans for tomorrow?" Viktor asked as the stumbled out of the car.

"Nah, we're on break. Drinks tonight? Phichit is staying over at his parents. Perfect opportunity to get hammered."

"I thought you'd never ask," Viktor chuckled.

A black SUV pulled up beside them and the driver's window rolled down.

"Evening, detective."

Yuuri nodded. "Smith."

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah, I didn't see anyone following us."

"Right then, we'll be settling for the night." Smith nodded and pulled away.

"Freedom," Viktor sighed, watching as his breaths fogged in the frigid evening air.

"Come on, let's go. We need this," Yuuri laughed and tugged Viktor into the house.

"I'll grab the shot glasses," Viktor murmured as he shrugged off his coat.

"Okay, I'm just gonna grab something from my room."

"That doesn't sound suspicious at all, Yuuri," Viktor called for the kitchen.

Yuuri crept up behind him as he cleaned out the glasses.

"I've got a suspicious package for you, Nikiforov," Yuuri coughed out, trying his best to sound serious.

"Hmm?" Viktor wiped his hands off on his slacks and turned around.

"One last birthday present."

Viktor grinned and weighed the postage package in his hand, turning it over to find the label.

"Wait...Saint Petersburg?"

"Yuri had it posted over express."

Viktor collapsed into a kitchen chair and started cutting the package open. Yuuri went back to the cupboard and started searching for wherever Phichit had hidden the booze, only pausing when he heard sniffling behind him.

"Viktor? Is everything okay?"

"M..maybe.." Viktor choked.

"Are you crying again?" Yuuri chuckled as he finally found where Phichit had stashed their vodka.

"No!" Viktor bawled, turning around with tears streaming down his face. "Yura gave me his favourite Tiger stuffed toy!"

"Aw," Yuuri laughed.

"D...don't laugh at me! This is serious."

"Okay, fine. Take a drink, then do explain." Yuuri slid a filled glass across the table and reached out to clean the packaging off the table, causing a letter to slip out.

"Huh, Yuri wrote a letter with it too?"

"Yeah, I guess." Yuuri bent over, scooped the letter off the floor and handed it to Viktor. "What does it say?"

Viktor let out another bout of sobs. "He said he w..was loaning the tiger to me and that I had to g...give it back in one piece."

Yuuri patted Viktor on the back and pushed a box of tissues into his hands.

"He's worried about you."

Viktor lifted the shot glass to his lips and downed it in one go. "I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii everyone, happy holidays and hope everyone has a great new year!
> 
> Sorry, I had to squish both their birthdays together (thanks to my terrible timing), but I hope you enjoyed it! And sorry this is a little late, I was out of the house for the whole day for a Christmas barbeque with the fam.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the update and please leave kudos or comments, and subscribe or bookmark for more!


	36. The Ghosts of Christmas Past and New Years Present (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas has a different meaning for everyone crafted by their years of experience on this Earth. We take a walk into Viktor's past to see the Christmas of 2011 in Russia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I have no excuses for how late this is, but here it is! Please note: in this timeline, Mila and Emil have been aged up so they are the same age as Sara and Michele, 18. Otabek is 14. Viktor is 22/23. Yurio is 11 and Georgi is much older than canon at about 30.

2011: Two Days Till Christmas,

 

Note: Italtics are in Italian

 

"Oi, Yakov! You're kidding right?" Viktor sighed, jogging to catch up to the older man who paced furiously down the hallway.

 

"Do I look like I am joking?" He grunted, glaring out of the corner of his eyes as Viktor peeked at him.

"Who knows, maybe I've just never seen your joking face, but I'm pretty sure that's your annoyed face."

Yakov rolled his eyes and mumbled a few curses under his breath. "An important part of this business is maintaining a good relationship with other leaders."

"And their young daughters apparently."

"I'll have none of this attitude," Yakov snorted, halting outside a tall set of wooden doors. "You know that she has been working under her uncle for many years already."

"Oh come on, Yakov. We both know that I'm not straight," Viktor whined.

Georgi and Chris sputtered uncomfortably in the background while Mila simply laughed.

"I'm not a fool. I know you're equally good at charming both genders whether you like them or not, a little too good some might say. So get in there and make a good impression."

"Fine, but I want a day off tomorrow for some personal business."

"Agreed, but you will have to brief me about your meeting with Crispino tonight."

“Yes, sir."

With that Yakov turned on his heel and strode away, leaving the three men alone in the corridor.

"Gosha!" Viktor whined, draping himself over Georgi's shoulders. "Yakov is so mean to me."

“It’s the only way he can work with you.”

“Psh pash, on the note of work.” Viktor rolled off the older man’s back and brushed his jacket off. “I need you to deliver something for me. You’ll find everything you need inside.” Viktor reached into his jacket and brandished an envelope. 

“Moscow?” He asked, opening the envelope to thumb through the contents.

“Yes, your train leaves in an hour. I assume you’ll be back before the sun sets.”

Georgi nodded. “And the Crispinos?”

“I can handle them. Oh and one more thing, I might be pretty pre-occupied with the Crispinos, could you pick Yuri up from Lilia's for me?"

“Of course, have a good day. I’ll see you later.”

“Godspeed, Doctor,” Viktor called as Georgi strode away.

“Don’t be so formal Viktor, it doesn’t suit you,” Georgi laughed, waving without turning.

“What was that about?” Mila asked, shuffling up to Viktor’s side.

“I’m inviting Yura’s grandfather to his exhibition tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Mila stated simply, noting that the finality in Viktor’s tone marked the end of that conversation.

Chris looked equally surprised, almost like the arrangement had been decided at the last minute.

“Anyhoo. Charms on, people. We’re making a good impression.” Viktor pushed the tall wooden doors open with a flourish.

“Oh, Mr Nikiforov, so glad you could finally join us. You’re only 23 minutes late,” the young woman perched on the couch stated simply.

Viktor crossed the room and took her hand, pressing a gentle kiss to her tanned skin.

“The pleasure is all mine, Sara, if I may call you that.”

Viktor smiled and took his bearings. She was beautiful by any man’s standards. Luminous, black hair that fell just past her shoulders and framed a mysterious pair of violet eyes. To her left sat a taller, but likely equally young man with contrastingly lighter brown hair and an athletic build. Bodyguard. To Sara’s right was her twin brother who shared his twin sister's unique eyes, but with brown hair just a few shades lighter. 

"Sure,” Sara replied cheerfully.

_“I cannot believe we are stuck here two days before Christmas with this dude who thinks he can lay a fucking hand on my sister so casually,_ ” Michele spat in Italian as he glared insistently at Viktor.

“Mickey!” Sara grumbled in a reprimanding voice before continuing the conversation in Italian. “ _We’ll be home before you know it if you behave.”_

_“Behave? This guy is making goo-goo eyes at you!”_

Viktor opened his mouth to say that he did, in fact, speak Italian fluently, but was interrupted by Mila.

“You’re being rather rude, having another conversation while we’re here in the room,” Mila bit out.

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse my brother,” Sara sighed and smiled at Viktor. “He’s in a bit of a mood after our flight. He doesn’t like planes.”

_“That is such bullshit, stop sucking up to him, Sara,”_ Michele hissed through his teeth as he removed his arm from around her shoulder and crossed them over his chest.

“I can speak Italian.” Viktor shrugged. “Just putting that out there and let’s get one thing straight, I’m not. So I’m not hitting on your-“

“Great, we’re on the same page then,” Sara interrupted. “I’m not interested in you either, but your charge is cute.” Sara winked at Mila with the subtlety of a golden sledgehammer.

“Wait, what?” Chris squeaked.

“I’m gay,” Sara stated simply.

“Well, that took a major turn,” Viktor chuckled. “Now that we have that misunderstanding out of the way, I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“I’m sorry, about my brother he’s very protective.” Sara slapped her brother’s arm gently. “Apologise, Mickey.”

“I’m sorry,” he ground out with a scowl.

“Cool, let’s start again. I’m Sara Crispino, nice to meet you.” Sara held out a hand, a lopsided grin on her face.

Viktor took the hand and shook it firmly. “Viktor, Viktor Nikiforov.”

“This is my brother Michele and this is Emil Nekola.”

Emil, who had remained cheerfully silent up until now, offered Viktor a handshake. “Your reputation precedes you, Mr Nikiforov.”

“Ah, no need to be so formal. We’re all so young! Please, everyone, call me Viktor. This is Chris and Mila.”

Mila blushed and refused to meet any of the other party’s eyes while Chris shook hands with them all cheerily.

“Mr Feltsman said he wanted us to get to know each other since we’ll be working together in the future after all, but I was thinking something more...fun than discussing plans or politics,” Viktor probed, flashing a reassuring smile to a sweating Chris.

“Ugh, please, don’t even kid me. I’d love to have some fun,” Sara groaned and slumped in her seat.

“Lunch, shopping, dinner then maybe hit the clubs?”

“That sounds fantastic,” Sara cheered, her smile widening. 

 

* * *

 

A little later, in Moscow,

 

 

Nikolai padded through the snow steadily, both arms weighed down by grocery bags. If little Yura were here, than he would've definitely asked to carry more than he could handle. He turned the last corner before his home with a huff, his hands starting to get a little tired as he pushed open his gate. He trudged up the foot path with a sullen smile as he thought of the grandson he had not seen in more than 6 months.

When they first arrived in Russia, Viktor had left Moscow and taken Yuri with him to St Petersburg where Nikolai wrote letters and Yuri could visit for a few days once a fortnight. However, just over 6 months ago neither Yuri nor Doctor Popovich, who usually accompanied the boy to Moscow, appeared on the usual day. After that, the only correspondence he had been received was a few short words once a week to say that the boy was happy and healthy, none of which could be proven.

He was angry and frustrated, but the Bratva were not people to be messed with, even if Viktor was one of them.

"Mr Plisetsky?"

Nikolai jumped, his feet sliding out from under him on the slippery, snow-covered steps of his porch. Thankfully, a strong hard darted out and grasped his hand, holding him steady.

"Doctor Popovich! How long have you been waiting out here in the cold?”

“Only a few minutes.”

“Please, come in.” Nikolai unlocked the door quickly and ushered his guest in. “Would you like some tea?”

“I can’t stay long, I’ll get myself out of your hair quickly.”

“Oh, well, at least sit.” Nikolai gestures towards the small circular table.

Georgi unfurled his scarf from his neck and sat himself down.

“First of all, I should say I’m very sorry for not contacting you for so long and that you haven’t been able to see Yuri. We’ve been very busy, but he’s doing very well.”

“What brings you here?”

“This is for you.” Georgi pulled the envelope Viktor had passed him earlier and gave it to the older man. “Inside are train tickets to St. Petersburg including return tickets.”

“Why am I going to St Petersburg?”

“Oh, silly me! I probably should’ve explained that first,” Georgi laughed. “Yuri has a skating exhibition of sorts for novices tomorrow. He’ll be performing to impress a prospective coach so he wanted you to come and support him. He was also hoping you’d be staying the night with him for Christmas.”

“An exhibition?!” The older man marvelled, clutching the envelope to his chest.

“Yes, quite exciting isn’t it?”

“Ah, my boy, all grown up,” Nikolai sighed. “ I hoped he’s doing okay. He’s serious about skating isn’t he?”

“He’s been serious about skating for as long as I’ve known him and it’s a passion that only grows.” Georgi let out a wistful sigh.

“And how is your family, doctor?”

“Ah, my girlfriend, Elena. She’s so pretty, here look.” Georgi held out his phone.

“She is And you two look very good together. Are you happy?”

“Very, we just celebrated our 6 month anniversary. I think this one is going well, or at least much better than my previous romances.”

“You’ve got a little time before your train back home, right? Stay a little and tell me about your girlfriend.”

“Oh, I’d love to!”

The older man smiled and turned to set the kettle on the stove. The doctor loved to talk about his lovers, maybe a little too much.

 

* * *

 

Around Seven that night,

 

 

Georgi pulled up outside Lilia’s studio and pressed the car horn twice, watching as two boys, bundled up in scarves and sweaters, leapt out the door and scrambled to the car.

“Preevyet, Gosha!” Yuri greeted as he crawled across the back seat.

“Hello, boys. How was your day?”

“Good,” Otabek answered simply as he closed the door behind him. 

“That’s good to hear. I trust I’m not too late?”

“No, Lilia just finished.” Yuri stretched and yawned. “I’m going to take a nap.”

“Okay.” Georgi checked his rear view mirror to see what Otabek was doing.

The older boy had a book open in his lap and a pen quickly scratching across the surface of a notebook, doing what was presumably homework. 

They spent the rest of the car ride in silence, asides from Yuri’s snoring, of course. When they arrived, Georgi parked the car and accompanied the boys up to their floor. Georgi offered to carry Yuri’s bag as he was too tired to walk by himself, choosing to lean on Otabek the entire four flights of stairs to the Altins’ apartment. Georgi stood back at the door waiting till Otabek’s mother came to the door, her hair a little frizzed from standing in front of the stove.

“Yura! Come in are you hungry?” She called, ruffling a gentle hand on his head.

“Mm, hungry,” Yuri mumbled, shuffling into the house.

The change in her stance was almost imperceptible as she glanced up and saw Georgi standing there. She remained silent and averted her eyes as Otabek stepped into the apartment and turned back with a hand outstretched for Yuri’s school bag.

“Ah, goodnight,” Georgi stuttered as he handed over the bag.

“Goodnight, Doctor,” Otabek replied before shutting the door.

“Ah, I feel so old when people call me doctor,” Georgi sighed into the silence of the corridor.

 

* * *

 

Later that night,

 

 

“Viktor, can I dance with Sara?”

“Mm, yeah, but under one condition.” Viktor paused. “You’d better make a good impression.” He winked and punched her arm.

“Oh, my god, you are the bestest boss ever.”

“Nothing too hot on the dance floor, kay? And not too many drinks, we’ve got stuff to do tomorrow.”

“Milaaaaa!” Sara whined from the dance floor as brushed her hair over her shoulder with her hands. “Come dance with me!”

“Coming!” Mila cried before whipping back around to Viktor. “Viktor, I’m so gay it hurts. That’s how sober I am.”

“Yeah yeah, go have fun,” Viktor laughed, shoving her off towards the dance floor.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone looking quite so glum in a night club while surrounded by beautiful women.” Chris pointed vaguely towards Michele. “Even the bodyguard is trying to make him enjoy himself.”

“Maybe he just has resting bitch face or something?” Viktor snickered into his hand.

“If he heard you say that he would probably snap and try to kill you,” Chris sighed, shaking his head.

“It’s not my fault he’s got a temper, I mean, what kind of guy thinks every guy is hitting on his sister.”

“A very protective one, clearly.” Chris looked his friend dead in the eye, letting a few silent words pass between them.

Viktor tolled his eyes and grumbled, “I guess I can understand that.”

“Anyhoo, why aren’t you drinking?” Chris asked, swishing his glass in Viktor’s face.

“I’ve got to go talk to Yakov later.”

“Later, darling? You know it’s like quarter to eleven, right?”

“Oh, looks like time has flown by. I trust you can apologise to Mila and the Crispinos for my late departure?”

“You are a terrible friend. Do it yourself!”

Viktor leaned forward and yanked Chris’ glass out of his hand before downing the liquid in one go.

“WHOO!” Viktor slammed the glass back down on the bench. “I love you too, bye, toodles, have fun and don’t get too drunk!”

Viktor dashed out before Chris could stop him and made his way out of the club. The frozen winter air against his face was exactly the wake-up call Viktor needed as he hailed a cab to head to Yakov’s place.

 

Viktor skipped up the steps, bouncing on his toes and rubbing his hands together as he pressed the doorbell several times. Eventually, the door opened, revealing a very angry Feltsman.

“What are you doing here?” He growled.

“You said you wanted to talk to me tonight and according to my watch it’s 11:15. So, it’s still tonight.”

“You knew what I meant, this could’ve waited until tomorrow. Just come in for crying out loud.”

“No, no need. I’ll be quick, I promise. The cab is waiting for me.”

“Fine, how’d it go?”

“Great. She’s a very nice girl and I think we’ll get along very well.”

“That’s good, did you talk about- wait, why do you smell like alcohol?”

“I might’ve had a shot at the club before I came here?” Viktor smiled weakly.

“Why were you drinking at a club?!” Yakov roared, slapping his hands against his face.

“We all went clubbing. Chris, Mila, the Crispinos and their bodyguard guy.”

“When I said have a meeting, that was not what I had in mind!”

“Well, it worked.” Viktor shrugged. “I can tell you she’ll say nothing bad to her uncle when she returns home.”

“Ugh, okay at least we have that. Why are you youngsters like this?”

“Right, I’ll see you the day after tomorrow? Dasvidanya, Yakov!” Viktor chimed as he turned and sprinted back through the momentary snowfall to the safety of the cab.

 

Another short cab ride later Viktor arrived at the front of his apartment building. It was deathly quiet except for the occasional sound of a car passing and Viktor’s voice reverberating off the walls as he exchanged goodbyes with the cab driver. He climbed the stairs up to his floor and walked briskly to his door, the chill of a draught passing down the corridor sending a shiver through his body. He came to a stop at a door and spared a glance for the name card beside the door bell. 

Altin.

He rapped his knuckles against the wooden door gently, hoping he wouldn’t wake anyone. A few seconds later a black tuft of hair popped out of the door.

“Sir,” Otabek greeted.

“Please, call me Viktor.”

Otabek shrugged. “Old habits die hard.”

“Is Yuri here?”

“Yes, he’s already fast asleep.”

Viktor looked over the boy’s shoulder into the pitch black darkness of the apartment.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Viktor tutted.

“It’s a Friday night. I was reading Les Miserables in French as you recommended.”

“You should sleep, we need to be ready to cheer Yuri on tomorrow.”

Otabek nodded.

“Okay then, goodnight. I’ll come get Yuri in the morning.” Viktor turned and walked towards the apartment one door down.

Behind him, the click of a door closing echoed down the hallway.

“Viktor?”

Viktor startled a little, turning to see Otabek standing in the corridor behind him, the door to his apartment shut. He looked smaller than normal, dressed in his pyjamas and a baggy hoodie.

“Yes?”

“Do you have any jobs I can help you with?” 

“Jobs? Did something happen to your mum’s job? If you need some money I can just give it to you.”

“My mum doesn’t want to rely on your kindness and I would prefer to work for money.”

“You’re a kid Otabek, you shouldn’t be worrying about those kinds of things.”

“My sister is the kid and I want her to go to a decent school and have the things other kids have.” 

The gaze that Otabek levelled at Viktor would be described by most as calm, but after having known the boy for long enough Viktor could see that he was very serious about this.

“And your mum is fine with you working for me?”

“She thinks I do paperwork for you.”

“Did you tell her that?”

Otabek’s lips pulled into a taut line. “No.”

Viktor let out a long sigh and rubbed at the centre of his forehead.

“Fine, there’s an arms deal happening tomorrow night and I’ve got a pretty good feeling it’s going to go sour. You’ll be the sniper on standby is all.”

“You’ll be supplying the weapon?”

Viktor nodded. “We’ll head out a few hours early to set up and get you familiarised with the building.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight then?”

“Goodnight...Viktor.” Otabek turned and unlocked the door, disappearing into the apartment without another word.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Christmas Eve,

 

 

Nikolai walked out of the station, his eyes scanning about until he saw a woman jogging towards him, her fiery red hair bouncing behind her.

“Mr Plisetsky?” She called.

“Yes? You’re not the doctor.”

“Oh, were you expecting Gosha? Sorry, he’s a little busy.” The girl grinned and offered a handshake. “I’m Mila Babicheva, nice to meet you.”

Nikolai took her hand hesitantly, the girl seemed very...cheery. “I’m Nikolai Plisetsky, a pleasure to meet you and please, call me Nikolai.”

“You’re just as Yuri said you were, very very very nice. Can’t quite put my finger on the number of verys, but you catch my flow!” The young woman chirped as she sped walk through the snow to where she’d parked the car.

Nikolai followed with an awkward jog across the road.

“You know Yura?”

“Yes, I help out when the others are busy.” She came to a stop beside a car and started fishing through her pockets for the key.

“We’re driving...this?” Nikolai gestured to the small, but bright pink Mini Cooper that they were standing beside.

“Yes, I’m sorry you’ll have to excuse the garish colour. It’s Viktor’s personal car- even if he doesn't have a drivers license- and I simply cannot fathom why he chose this colour, but thankfully the windows are tinted so hopefully no one will see us,” she laughed, finally scooping out the key and unlocking the car. 

“This is so Viktor,” Nikolai muttered under his breath.

Moments later they were pulling onto the roads and quickly into some traffic.

“Ugh, this morning traffic! Hopefully, we make it on time.” Mila yanked the car into another lane sending Nikolai’s hand flying to the handhold on the door.

“Yes, hopefully,” the old man choked out as he held on for dear life.

A tense 30 minutes of aggressive driving later, they arrived at the designated rink, the car pulled into the closest parking lot they could find.

“It’ll be Yuri’s turn any minute!” Mila screeched as she grabbed the older man’s arm and tugged him towards the building.

Once inside they traversed the maze of corridors running under the stands until they came to what appeared to be a security checkpoint. Nikolai expected the guards to at least stop them, but they only stood aside and nodded at Mila as she stormed past. 

“I can see the rink,” Nikolai huffed, his feet making the last few paces into the blinding lights of the stadium.

“Yuri!” Mila cried.

A few metres away, a boy clad in a tiger-faced t-shirt and black slacks turned.

“Dedushka!” Yuri cried, sprinting to hug his grandfather. “You made it, just in time.”

“Yeah, I’m here,” the old man took a step back and held his grandson at arm’s length while looking him over. “You’ve grown, look at you.”

“Sorry, sir, we need to start,” a staff member interrupted, glancing between the two awkwardly.

“Watch me?” Yuri bent over and pulled his skate guards off, handing them to the staff member.

“Of course, go get ‘em, tiger!”

Yuri turned and skated away, making a large loop around the ice.

“Yuri, davai!” A young voice echoed through the stadium.

Nikolai’s eyes scanned across stands and finally around the rink until his eyes fell upon two lone figures standing at the opposite rinkside. A tall, silver-haired man stared right back across the ice, if only for a moment with those piercing blue eyes. Nikolai wavered, instead looking at the boy who stood beside Viktor. If Nikolai was not mistaken, he was whispering in the boy’s ear. The black-haired boy simply looked forward, his aura cold and calculating like an adult if not for his child-like stature.

“OOH! Here he is!” Mila cried, tearing Nikolai’s attention back to Yuri.

Once the performance had started, he could not tear his eyes from the magnificent creature on the ice. Yuri Plisetsky was born to skate, that much was clear. By the time the performance ended and Yuri exited off on the other side of the rink, the two figures Nikolai had been watching were long gone. He turned around on the spot, trying to identify where anyone had gone, but he could only recognise Mila.

"Mila, where'd Yura go?"

Mila squinted into the distance. "I think he skated off to the other side."

"How will we find him, there are so many people here," the old man sighed.

"He is probably saying hi to Viktor and Otabek," another voice added.

The two turned to face the source of the voice, a tall, stern woman whose dark hair was pulled into a tight bun on the top of her head.

"Madam Baranovskaya," Mila greeted quietly, making a small nod of respect.

"The Baranovskaya? The former prima-ballerina?"

A small smile graced the woman's lips. "You follow the ballet, I presume?"

"What brings you here?"

"Lilia!" Yuri cried as he jogged up.

"Ah, Yuri, your grandfather has been looking for you."

"You know Yuri?"

"Yes, he's my ballet student." Lilia nodded towards the boy.

"I'm sorry...what?"

"Lilia is going to be my coach too, right madam?" Yuri grinned as Lilia ruffled his hair.

"You put up quite the performance, I'm afraid I'm in a position where I'll have to take you on. I'll make arrangements with your brother." The woman smiled for a moment before turning on her heel.

"Yura, what is going on???"

"Oh, Lilia has been my ballet teacher since like forever." Yuri grinned sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck.

"And she's your coach now? God, what else have I missed?" The old man laughed.

"I started school?" Yuri offered.

"School!?"

"Yes, I'm in the 7th grade."

"WHAT?! You're only 11!"

Yuri shrugged. "I got moved up two grades so I'm in the same classes as Beka. It’s a long story," the boy preened.

"T...that's ridiculous! Are you sure?"

"I can attest that Yuri is in fact in 7th grade," Georgi chuckled from behind him. "His academic results are excellent, though his behaviour is not nearly as splendid, he's our very own little genius brat."

"Gosha! Did you watch me?"

"Yes, I was watching from the stands. I wanted to say congratulations before I left."

"Thank you." Yuri flushed a little and bowed his head.

"You've done well. I trust Mila will deliver you two home?"

"Yep," Mila chirped, leaning her elbows on Yuri’s head.

“Get off me, Baba!” Yuri screeched, swatting at her.

“Calm down, kitty,” she teased back as she pulled Yuri into a headlock.

“I’ll see you later, Mr Plisetsky.” Georgi nodded to Nikolai and left.

“B..bye, Gosha,” Yuri wheezed as he tapped on Mila’s arm secured against his throat. “Baba...let...m...me go.”

 

Mila drove the pair home and dropped them off in front of Yuri’s building. 

“Baba, why don’t you come in?”

“Sorry, I’ve got work to do. Another time?” She smiled and waved.

“Yeah, okay. Do you know when Viktor is coming home?”

“Nope, sorry. He’s pretty busy so don’t wait up for him, okay?”

“Okay,” Yuri mumbled, looking a little downtrodden.

“Bye Kitten!”

“Bye Baba!” Yuri called as the car pulled away.

“You live here?” The old man gestured the drab colours and old building.

It was definitely not Viktor’s style.

Yuri grinned as he fished out his key. “Yeah, it was a birthday present.”

“A birthday present?” Nikolai asked as they started climbing the stairwell.

“We moved up here when I said I wanted to start school and the surprise was that we’re living right next door to Beka.” Yuri pointed at the Altin’s door as they passed.

“You like it here?” Nikolai squinted in the low lighting.

“It’s not as nice as our old apartment, or the big house, but I have Beka.”

Nikolai was definitely curious about this Beka character now. “You haven’t introduced me to this ‘Beka’ yet.”

“Otabek was at the stadium with Viktor. Didn’t you see him?” Yuri shrugged as he pushed the door open.

Something clicked in Nikolai’s head. The very strange boy with Viktor?

“Does he have black and hair and is a little bit taller than you?” The older man asked apprehensively.

“Yeah. So you did see him. The one with a blank face?” Yuri stuck his tongue out and gestured for his grandfather to enter the apartment.

“Yeah...”

Yuri shuffled on towards the kitchen, tossing his bag into his room as he passed. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom, you go ahead and wait in the kitchen."

Nikolai nodded and stepped into the brightly lit kitchen. On the far side of the room, a set of wide windows allowed sunlight to flood into the room, over the bench tops and even reaching as far as the dinner table. The table, currently covered in filled grocery bags, was small enough to fit four people at most. The kitchen was fairly clean and didn't appear to be used a lot, but a few unwashed dishes were waiting in the sink. Nikolai crossed the room to inspect what was in the bags.

"Milk, sugar, butter, eggs, flour, cabbage," Nikolai murmured as he rustled through the bags. It was everything he needed to make Pirozhki.

Yuri strode back into the room and grabbed two aprons off the wall.

"Is everything there?"

"Yes," Nikolai replied, still wondering who had bought the ingredients.

"Then let's get cooking!" Yuri grinned and pumped his fist in the air.

 

 

When all the preparations were done and they were simply waiting for the goodies to bake, Yuri excused himself to go shower and clean up. In the meantime, Nikolai explored the apartment. He'd already peaked into Yuri's room, which was spacious enough for the boy's bed, a desk and a bed for his cat Potya. So he continued down the corridor to Viktor's room where the door was closed. He opened the door slowly, feeling as though he were invading the young man's space by just stepping in, he felt the need to knock on the door gently before entering.

The room was significantly smaller containing only Viktor's bed, a small cupboard and an empty nightstand. Viktor must've given Yuri the master bedroom. The room was otherwise undecorated except for three photo frames on top of the cabinet. Nikolai padded across the carpet and reached out to touch the first photo.

It was a photo of the Plisetsky family, Viktor included, the day his daughter was discharged from hospital after giving birth to Yuri. Despite looking exhausted, she glowed as she held the newborn against her chest. Viktor looked absolutely giddy beside her as he reached over to squeeze Yuri's cheeks.  

Nikolai's eye began to sting so he rubbed them and continued to the next photo. It was a group photo with Yura in the centre once again and besides him was the black-haired boy. Surrounding them were Viktor, Dr Popovich, the Swiss man who was Viktor's friend, and the young lady he had met today who had introduced herself as Mila. It appeared to be the boys' first day of school as they were both dressed in their uniforms and Yuri, in particular, was struggling. The time stamp in the corner dated to just under 3 months ago. Nikolai sighed and set the frame back down. 

He turned to the next frame and picked it up, instead choosing to settle on the bed. This photo was a little newer, dating from only a month ago. In it, Viktor was kneeling with an arm slung around Yuri's shoulders and a proud grin. Yuri was also grinning and holding up a certificate and a gold medal. Nikolai squinted and looked closer, making out the words 'mathematics competition' on the certificate. So Yura was good at maths?

"Dedushka?" Yuri called into the apartment.

"In here!" Nikolai scrambled to put the picture back and out of the room.

As the man rushed out the door he bumped into Yuri.

"O..oh, this is Viktor's room."

The old man nodded and patted the boy on the shoulders.

"Let's go see how those Pirozhki are looking, shall we?" The old man laughed awkwardly and guided Yuri towards the kitchen.

Yuri nodded. "I'm gonna go see if Otabek is busy so he can have lunch with us."

"Oh, okay."

Yuri skittered off out the front door without another word. He returned a few minutes later looking a little downtrodden.

"Beka isn't home right now." Yuri shrugged and shuffled back into the house.

"Just us two then?"

"Yeah." Yuri pulled two plates out of the cupboard and brought them over to the table.

"The Pirozhki are ready."

"Thank god, I am starving," Yuri mumbled.

The pair got their pirozhki out of the oven and put the leftovers in the fridge. They settled down at the table, Yuri digging into his own before he'd even sat down.

"Slow down, you'll choke," Nikolai chuckled, watching his grandson with a twinkle in his eye.

Yuri swallowed then snivelled, "I'd rather die than slow down."

The pair laughed for a moment then fell back into a comfortable silence. After a while Yuri stopped eating, let out a long sigh and put his Pirozhki down.

“I know you and Viktor don’t talk anymore, but I’ll tell him you said happy birthday, okay?” Yuri said, his quiet voice echoing off the walls like ricocheting bullets in the silence of the kitchen.

Nikolai chewed his food silently for a minute. 

"How has school been? Must be tough skipping grades." Nikolai avoided the boy's pleading gaze and continued eating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started this I wasn't expecting it to encompass as many characters as it does, you'll see the rest in the next part. 
> 
> Anywho, onto why this is so late, I've been absolutely swamped in study and life in general despite it being it being summer break. I hit the beach three times within one week which has to be some kind of record for me. My aunt recently opened a restaurant so I've been working to help her make social media pages. 
> 
> So asides from studying 8 hours a day I simply do not have enough hours in the day to do everything I want to do. So, for now, you might have to expect a chapter every fortnight rather than every week. There are only a few weeks lefts of my break until I have to head back to school for my final year of high school (WHOO I AM SCREWED) so when that time comes I'll re-evaluate my updating schedule.
> 
> Until next time! <3


	37. The Ghosts of Christmas Past and New Years Present (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIVE!

  _Last Chapter,_

 

_Viktor agreed to let Otabek help him with an arms deal._

 

* * *

 

Christmas Eve 2011, a nondescript warehouse in St Petersburg,

 

Viktor stepped out of the black car and held the door open for Otabek to step out. Otabek pulled his jacket closer around his shoulder as he looked at the building around them. A frigid wind blew through the open doors of the warehouse scattering snow onto the floor. Viktor tapped on the driver's windows and issued a few orders, gesturing for him to park outside.

"So, what do you think?" Viktor asked, gesturing to the warehouse around him.

In the centre of the warehouse sat a group of full pallets under a black-canvas cover. The warehouse was completely empty asides from that and an office that rose up above the sea of concrete like the perfect crows nest. The office's roof didn't quite touch the roof of the warehouse, thank god.

"Does that office have access to its roof?"

Viktor chuckled. "Why do you think I chose this place? Plenty of room for you."

Otabek nodded and pressed his hands further into his pockets. 

Viktor smiled and rubbed his hands together. "Now for the real show. Stay here, I'll be back."

Viktor skipped off to the office, disappearing inside for a few minutes before returning out dragging a small bench behind him with a black case in his other hand. He screeched to a stop just in front of the boy and set the bench down, setting the black case on top of the bench.

"Go on, open it up." Viktor stood back and gestured to the case.

Otabek stepped forward and flicks up the two latches securing the lid before opening it slowly. 

"She's a beauty. M82."

Otabek reached out and ran his fingers over the smooth metal. He pulled the top section out and dropped to the floor, crossing his legs as he set the piece down. He worked quickly yanking out two pins and pulling all sorts of parts into position.

"Wow, you know what you're doing," Viktor whispered in quiet awe.

"I've assembled this kind before," Otabek replied as he reached for the second piece, his fingers working deftly to set the two pieces together.

He pulled the bolt back slowly, letting the two halves falling together before pushing the bolt back forward. He set the rifle back in his lap and reached for the magazine and paused.

"Bullets?"

"Oh, sorry, I forgot." Viktor brandished a box and set it down beside the boy.

Otabek slotted the bullets efficiently into the magazine then hefted the rifle onto his shoulder, slotting the magazine in and pulling the bolt back one last time.

"That has to be a world record or something." Viktor shook his head and offered him a hand.

"I've done it faster." Otabek leveraged the hand to stand. "You said I could practice?"

Viktor brandished a few soda cans from his pockets. "I have more, I'll go grab them if you want. Meanwhile, I drew a 100-yard line somewhere down there. It's chalk, pink, you won't miss it." Viktor waved off in the vague direction of the far end of the warehouse. 

Otabek nodded and started walking off into the distance. Viktor set the five cans in his hands down on the bench and followed Otabek to where he was setting up. Viktor brandished a pair of binoculars from his coat and set it on the ground as he sat down beside Otabek. He pulled a pair of ear muffs out of his pocket and pulled them over Otabek's head before inserting a pair of earplugs into his ears.

"Ready?"

Otabek nodded.

Viktor lifted his binoculars to his eyes and watched pensively. The first can exploded in a burst of orange, splattering across the floor. 

"That's a hit. Fourteen."

Otabek paused and pushed one muff off his ear. "What?"

"What?'

"Fourteen?"

" A code name for coms?"

"Why Fourteen?"

"Because you're fourteen?" Viktor shrugged, his eyes still looking into the horizon through the binoculars. "Don't want to forget that."

Otabek shrugged, pulled his earmuff back over his ear and adjusted his sites. Another shot rang out across the warehouse sending more orange soda spilling over the concrete.

"Got it, again." Viktor grinned at the boy and gave him a thumbs up. "Actually, do you think I could have a shot?"

 

* * *

 

At Yakov’s Office,

 

“Yakov?” Mila knocked on the door before entering.

“Yes?”

“Perez's men will be at the warehouse in an hour.”

"Is everything ready?"

"Yes."

"Is Perez himself coming?"

"No."

Yakov let out a long sigh. "I would like some time alone."

"Sir, what about the meetup?"

"Viktor is a grown man, he can handle it without me. So, please leave and tell Alexis I'll be seeing no one until further notice."

Mila seemed to flinch at the harshness of his words as she backed out of the room with a nod. Once the door was shut firmly behind her, Yakov turned and pulled open a drawer in his desk. He plucked a pen off his desk and prodded around at the bottom of his drawer till he found the button. With a firm press, the bottom section of the drawer popped out revealing a hidden compartment. He pulled out the photo frame hidden inside and spared a glance for the pair of wedding bands beneath it.

"Twenty years," Yakov sighed as he set the photo frame down.

He reached for the bottle of vodka stashed in his desk and poured himself a shot, downing it before looking at the picture. Lilia had her hair out, letting her chestnut tresses fall over her lace-covered shoulders. The wedding still felt like yesterday. If he closed his eyes he could still see her walking down the aisle towards him, a smile that was nervous, but overflowing with happiness. Yakov was admittedly getting older and was more than ready to settle down and start a family. After five years of marriage, both of them were busier than ever with Lilia travelling the world to perform and Yakov taking on even more responsibility in the Feltsman Bratva. She was possibly at the peak of her career and not going to raise children in the family of a Feltsman. And perhaps Yakov was more attached to the loyalty of his family than his only love. They split and went their opposite ways, Lilia going on to become Prima Ballerina of the Bolshoi Ballet and Yakov, with the death of his father, becoming the Pakhan. 

 

Neither of them remarried and stayed out of each others' way for the most part. Yakov continued to attend all of Lilia's performances when he could, not that he told her. He hadn't met her for nearly a decade until the other day when he had gone looking for Viktor and was told by Georgi to the check a skating rink that his younger brother frequented. Low and behold, his Lilia, holding the hand of a child he'd managed to frighten just by standing there. What an extraordinarily small world.

 

* * *

 

 

Back at the warehouse,

 

Mila and Georgi stepped out of the car, Georgi yanking his coat further around his shoulders.

"Why am I here?" The doctor sighed.

"Why not?" Mila chirped, striding into the already open warehouse.

"Milochka!" Viktor called from the little bench he was sitting on.

"Viktor? Why are you here so early?" Mila queried.

“I was just...doing stuff,” Viktor chuckled and waved her off. “I’m not that early anyway.”

“You’re earlier than you usually being late.” Mila shrugged.

“At least I’m fashionably late.”

“Can we please just get this over with quickly? My girlfriend is waiting for me." Georgi let out a long-suffering sigh and rubbed his hands together.

"No guarantees, but if you want to avoid being shot feel free to hole up in the office." Viktor gestured to the small room in the distance behind him.

Mila raised an eyebrow. "I thought this was a routine exchange?"

Viktor shrugged. "Let's just say it's a gut feeling."

"You heard him," Mila barked, gesturing at the men behind them to take their positions.

 

Not long later, a fleet of Humvees pulled up outside, a man stepped out and was quickly flanked by a set of bodyguards.

"Viktor Nikiforov," the man called, a smug smile on his face. "I was expecting Pakhan Feltsman."

"It seems I'm at a disadvantage, you know my name, but I don't know yours."Viktor extended a hand amicably.

The man took it cautiously. "Fernandez."

"Pleasure making your acquaintance."

"Let's make this quick, I've got places to be. Alves, check the goods." 

One of Fernandez' men stepped forward, letting Viktor pull back the tarp to reveal the guns.

"A seventy hundred and fifty units as you requested," Viktor added in the silence.

The runt turned back and nodded to his boss.

"1.2 Million then, Nikiforov."

Viktor clicked his tongue. "We agreed on 1.5 mil."

"Well, I say 1.2." The sound of guns clicking rang out behind Viktor.

"Oh, fucking hell," Viktor sighed.

"Hands up, if any of you move I will blow a hole in your bosses head," he groused, stepping closer to Viktor. "Turn around slowly."

Mila held her hands up and cursed under her breath. Viktor obliged, turning slowly with a smile. "1.5 Mil," he stated simply.

"You don't seem to recognise that you are the one at gunpoint, Mr Nikiforov." He tapped the muzzle against Viktor's forehead.

"Did you really think that just because I'm not Yakov means you can shove me around? He's going to have my ass, so if you don't mind, 1.5 mil." Viktor sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Do you want to die?"

"Not really, seems like you're the one with the death wish. Fourteen, why don't you show our guest some hospitality?" Viktor lips curled into a smile.

A split second later a gunshot echoed across the warehouse and Viktor probably would've enjoyed the look of sheer horror that flashed across Fernandez's face if it weren't for the fact that he was dripping blood onto Viktor's leather shoes.

"Fuck!" He howled, clutching at his now half missing hand.

In the split second of distraction, the Russians whipped out their arms and had the other side in their sights.

"Geez, looks like we've got our very own Mexican standoff, except I'd recommend you get your men to stand down otherwise I'll have my sniper take you down one man at a time." Viktor smiled and took a step back, leaning down to wipe the blood off his shoes.

"FUCK! Whatever! I'll give you the money!" He hissed, hobbling into the arms of one of his men. "Stand down and hurry up and bring the money!"

Viktor stood back with a smug smile and let them carry forward a briefcase. He opened it, glancing over the stacks of cash before clicking it shut again.

"Perfect, I'll bring one of the men out with the forklift to get this into your truck and I recommend you get some medical attention for your hand." Viktor smiled and patted the container of guns.

"Fuck you!" he hissed as he let his men drag him back to their vehicles.

"Wow, what an ungracious man, he could be dead," Viktor grumbled and shook his head.

"Viktor," Mila sighed. "I can't believe he tried to pull that bullshit on us either."

"Mila! Viktor!" Georgi huffed as he jogged up, having slipped out of hiding in the office.

"Gosha, I told you hiding would be a good idea."

"Viktor, since when did we have a sniper on our payroll?" Georgi asked.

Mila turned to look at Viktor as well, the question also occurring to her.

"Oh, like forever." Viktor shrugged. "Mila, go help the men load the pallet."

"Yessir."

Georgi and Viktor watched as the young woman strode off with a purpose.

"Georgi, could I have a favour?"

"Ah, you used my name properly, what is it?"

"I want you to talk to Otabek."

"Otabek?" Georgi raised an eyebrow at Viktor who was staring off into space.

"Yes."

"Talk or talk talk?"

"Talk talk."

"Why?"

"I think he could use the support."

The older man nodded. "Fair enough."

"You should have some free time while Yuri is at practice, correct?"

Georgi nodded. "I'll see him the day after tomorrow then?"

"Should work as long as Yura doesn't know."

"I'll put down the time, goodnight Viktor."

"Goodnight, Doc." Viktor waved as the other man left.

 

Viktor waited until most had left before slipping out the back door of the warehouse.

"Otabek?" Viktor squinted into the darkness.

"Here." The boy stepped into the light.

"Hi."

"Hi," Otabek replied quietly.

"Come inside let’s get you out of the snow, it's cold. We can talk in the office."

Otabek peered over his shoulder as if searching for something.

"It's okay, everyone else went home."

Otabek nodded and followed Viktor inside. In the office, Viktor pulled out a chair and gestured for Otabek to sit. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small paper bag and handed it to the boy.

"That's a hundred thousand rubles," Viktor murmured, pressing the envelope into his hands.

Otabek held it to his chest, not even bothering to open it and check. "T...that's too much."

"You said I could pay you if you worked for me. You saved my ass, so here is your pay."

"It's more than double my mum's wage."

"I know."

"T...thank you." Otabek bowed his head.

"Please, look up." He knelt on the floor till he was level with the boy. “There are some things I want though, in exchange for this.”

Otabek looked up, a slight quiver of fear in his dark eyes.

“I want to see all your school report cards.”

Otabek relaxed at this. “Yuri already shows you my report cards,” Otabek scoffed fondly.

“Yes, well I want to continue seeing them.”

“Okay.”

“And I want you to talk to Georgi again.”

“Why? Do you think I need it?” Otabek's eyes narrowed slightly.

"I think everyone needs to talk to someone to an extent."

"What about Yuri?"

"Yuri?"

"He'll figure something out if he knows I've gone somewhere. He'll ask questions I can't answer."

"It's alright, I'll have Georgi come talk to you while Yura is busy with practice."

Otabek nodded hesitantly. "Alright."

"And one more thing, this'll probably be the hardest."

Otabek gripped his jacket almost imperceptibly harder. "What?"

"If you ever need anything, if your sister or your mum ever need anything, I want you to tell me. You're family, so it's my responsibility to look out for you. Understood?"

Otabek nodded mutely.

"Good, let's get you home before your mum starts worrying. Do we need to pick your sister up? What time does your mum get home?"

"Yeah, I do need to pick up Deana from her friend's house and Mum said she should get home at nine."

Usually Deana would stay at an afterschool club with kids her age until their mum could pick her up, otherwise, she occasionally accompanied Otabek to Yuri's practice with Lilia and on Saturdays like today, Otabek would've usually been in charge of looking after her.

"Cool, you'll be okay at home alone for an hour or two, right?"

Otabek followed Viktor to their car, letting the man rant on with unnecessary questions like: do you have enough ice cream in the freezer - I don’t care if it’s the middle of winter? How many spare pillows - they're an absolute necessity you never know what's going to happen - how many do you have? 

 

 

Viktor left the two siblings off at their door, his almost infectious smile dropping off his face once the door closed. He glanced over his shoulder at the door to his open apartment just a few metres down the way. He knew that if he pressed his ear against the door he would be able to hear Yuri and Nikolai talking. He’d never felt quite so far from his dream when it was so close to him. While he didn’t know it then, it was a pain he’d later become familiar with all over again. He turned and headed back downstairs to where his driver was waiting. He slid into the back seat, staring out the window silently until the driver interrupted, coughing loudly.

“Sir, where to?”

“Oh, Christophe’s apartment.” That’ll do, he can crash there for the night until Nikolai is gone.

A few minutes from Christophe’s, Viktor glanced out the window, something catching his attention.

“Sorry, could you pull over here? I’ll walk the rest of the way myself.”

“Yessir.”

Viktor stepped out and watched the sleek black car pull off into the night before crossing the street. He stopped just short of a set of sliding glass doors and the bright light pouring from inside. The sign read норман алкомаркет (Norman Liquor Supermarket).

“Whoo, budget Vodka here I come,” he chuckled to himself.

 

* * *

 

Later,

 

 

Chris groaned when he heard the all too annoying sound of the door being knocked on. The clock on his wall said it was nearly nine, so who on Earth was knocking on his door. A few more sluggish knocks echoed through the apartment before he rolled out off the couch and pulled on a jacket before heading to the door. He checked the peep-hole, letting out a long-suffering sigh when saw the familiar flash of silver hair.

"Viktor, why are you- OOF." Chris stumbled backwards as Viktor threw his arms around Chris' neck.

"Chris, h...how are you? It's been ages!" Viktor slurred and chuckled drunkenly.

"Um, I literally just saw you this morning." Chris leaned back and held Viktor at an arm's length. "Holy shit, Viktor you're bleeding!"

"Huh? Where?"

"Your forehead!" Chris shrieked, watching as Viktor brought his hand up to his head and swiped through the blood.

"Oh, I guess I am."

"Are you drunk?!"

"Maybe?" Viktor shrugged sheepishly and scratched the back of his head.

"Did you hit your head? Why are you wandering around drunk in the middle of the night? Where is your driver?"

Viktor shrugged again. "I don't remember, Dad."

"Jesus Christ! Come in before your blood freezes to your head." Chris ushered Viktor inside and into the kitchen, turning the heater on and dragging a seat there. "Sit."

Viktor shuffled to the chair and collapsed into it. "The heater...is so nice."

Chris pressed a hand to the clean side of his forehead, noting that the blood was starting to drip down his face. "You're freezing, let me get you a blanket and a gauze for your head because that it bleeding so much."

"You're the bestest, Chris!" Viktor called as the Swiss man hurried away to his bathroom.

"God, you're so honest when you're drunk," Chris chuckled as he returned, pressing the gauze to the wound.

Viktor hissed and tried to move away, swatting at Chris' arms weakly.

"Hurts."

"Stop moving, why is it bleeding so much? Are you sure you didn't hit your head on something?"

"I don't know."

"I'm worried, I'm going to call the doctor."

"Gosha?" Viktor seemed to light up at this.

"Yeah, stay still and hold this for me." Chris fished his phone out of his pocket and started scrolling through his contacts.

 

Elsewhere in the city,

 

Georgi jogged up the steps of his front porch and unlocked the door with a giddy grin. Finally, a decent night to have dinner with Elena. As he swept open the door he was greeted by his girlfriend, standing there with a box full of her belongings balanced on her hip.

"E..Elena? What's going on?"

"Georgi, I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore." She stepped around him and out the door. "Goodbye, Georgi."

"At least tell me why?" He called after her.

"You're too old and too boring for me." She shrugged and walked off into the darkness of the night.

"Oh, old, that's a new one," he sighed."I'm not that old, right, I'm only thirty-four..." Georgi sighed and turned to check his reflection in the mirror by the door.

He flinched when his phone started vibrating in his pocket.

"Christophe? How can I- Viktor bumped his head? He's drunk?! I....I'll be right there."

Georgi slipped his phone back into his pocket and sighed. He drove himself to Chris' apartment as quickly as the speed limit would allow him.

 

"Thank god you're here," Chris sighed as he let Georgi in.

"Gosha? Why do you look so sad? You look like your girlfriend dumped you," Viktor laughed, stopping when Georgi didn't correct him. "Wait, did she actually leave you?"

"Yes, she did." Georgi brushed Viktor's fringe aside to get a better look at the cut.

"She didn't deserve you," Viktor whined petulantly.

Georgi laughed breathlessly as he pressed against the wound gently with a small cloth. "You always want to cheer me up, even when you're drunk."

"She just wanted your wallet."

Chris muffled his laughter. "Really?"

"I'm not sure whether I should be hurt or just glad it's over," Georgi sighed, cleaning the cut while holding Viktor's head steady.

"Perhaps both would be an appropriate reaction."

"You deserve someone amazing," Viktor grinned at the doctor.

“What about Chris?” Georgi laughed as he brushed Viktor’s hair out of the way again.

“Chris?” Viktor laughed, albeit a little sadly. “Did you know he used to have a crush on me?”

Chris gasped and dashed across the room.

Georgi froze. “I feel like I’ve heard something I was not meant to know.”

“But alas!” Viktor sighed dramatically. “It was not meant to be.”

“Viktor, I think you’ve said enough,” Chris whined, grabbing and squeezing his friend's hand.

“So I made up my mind because I knew I needed to put some space between us. I knew he wanted out of this underworld and I knew he would never be free if he loved me. So I stopped sleeping with him.”

“You two slept together?!” The doctor shrieked. 

“Many times,” Viktor crowed and lifted his glass of water in a toast.

“Oh god, please tell me you were at least safe.”

“If you must know doctor,” Chris sighed,”we were.”

“I was only thinking in his best interests hoping he would grow up and leave,” Viktor sighed wistfully.

“You did that for me? Not because you didn’t want me?”

“You’re my friend and those are few and far between,” Viktor mumbled, shrugging.

“He cares for you a lot,” Georgi murmured as he deftly applied the bandaid to Viktor's forehead.

Viktor looked pointedly at Georgi. “Chris is my best friend. I wanted to protect him. He deserves better than scum like me.” 

Chris and Georgi were stunned into silence as Viktor rolled over and fell asleep promptly.

Georgi cleared his throat. “So I guess we’re just three single guys stuck together...”

 

* * *

 

 

 

Christmas Day,

 

Viktor opened his eyes with a groan.

"My head is killing me," he whined as he pressed his arm over his eyes to block out the sunshine.

"So the birthday boy is finally awake."

Viktor sat up with a gasp. "Gosha!" Before clutching a hand to his head and promptly collapsing back down on the couch with a groan. "Where am I?"

"You don't remember? We're at Chris' apartment."

"How did I get here?" Viktor mumbled pressing a hand to his head. "What day is it?"

"You got blackout drunk at a bar nearby and miraculously walked your way here. Not without a scratch though." Georgi poked a finger right into the band-aid.

"Ow-ow-oW-ow, stop it, Gosha," Viktor whined and swatted at the older man’s hand.

“Also, it’s the 25th.”

Viktor’s eyes flew open. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah.”

Viktor sat up slowly and looked around. “What time is it?”

“Nearly eleven.”

Viktor turned and stared out the window silently.

“We are going to have a conversation about your behaviour later, but right now you’re going to get up and clean yourself up.”

Viktor buried his head in his hands. 

“I don’t want to-“

“I don’t care what you do and don’t want to do, right now Yura is at home alone with Otabek and his sister and he is waiting for you. His grandfather should be on the train home by now, so I suggest you get your shit together.” 

Viktor looked up to see that Georgi had a hand outstretched, ready to pull him to his feet. He took the hand hesitantly and stood slowly, feeling like a newborn deer as he stumbled a step away from the older man.

“Chris left you some clothes so you could shower and clean up.” Georgi pressed a bundle of clothes into his arms and turned him around with a push towards the bathroom. 

“Thanks, Georgi,” Viktor mumbled.

“And one more thing before I have to leave, call Chris when you have a free moment and apologise.”

“I feel like I’m going to regret this, but what exactly am I apologising for?”

“Giving your best friend a heart attack.” Georgi rolled his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Later,

 

Viktor unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped in quietly, shedding his coat and tossing it over his arm. In the living room Otabek, Deana and Yuri sat around a game of monopoly on the ground. Deana was comfortably reclined against her brother, fiddling with a doll in her lap. Yuri sat across from the pair, idly throwing the spare pieces at Otabek who caught them and tossed them back into the box without even looking.

“Having fun?” Viktor asked quietly in the silence.

“Viktor?!” Yuri’s head whipped up as he scrambled to his feet. 

“The one and only.” Viktor grinned and opened his arms to accept a hug.

“Welcome home,” Yuri grunted into his stomach before shoving him away.

Otabek and his sister stood as well, the young girl peering up curiously at Viktor.

“Viktor, what happened to your head?” She asked, drawing the others’ attention.

“Oh, this?” Viktor swept back his fringe and prodded the bandaid. “I opened a cupboard when I wasn’t paying attention and cut my forehead. Silly me.” Viktor waved the children off and smiled at them reassuringly.

Yuri seemed to accept the flimsy story and tugged on Otabek’s sleeve to pull him back to their game. Deana meanwhile, remained at Viktor’s legs and continued staring up at him.

Viktor took a knee to bring himself down to her height. “Hi Deana, can I help you?” 

“Lunch.”

Viktor remembered that being only seven years old her English was lacking at best so he switched to Russian.

“I’ll go cook something, lapochka, and I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

Deana nodded and went back to playing with the two boys. Viktor headed to the kitchen and crossed his fingers that there was something viable in the fridge. More often than not Yuri and Viktor ordered food from somewhere else otherwise Chris, Georgi or Mila did the cooking. When Viktor did open the fridge he wasn’t too surprised to find that Nikolai had made and left enough Pirozhki to last them a week. He made a quick job of heating up the pastries and piled enough for the four of them onto a plate before heading to the living room.

“Dinner is served,” he announced as he set the plate down on the ground.

“Pirozhki!” Deana cried, immediately making grabby fingers for the food.

Yuri reached out at the same time, the two children picking up the same piece. After a tense moment of wrestling over it, Yuri released it to the younger girl with a huff and picked up his own.

“Aren’t you being nice today,” Otabek teased, the edges of his lips quirked upwards.

“Don’t look so happy with yourself,” Yuri hissed with a face full of food.

Viktor just sat back and watched over his three charges with amusement and fondness in his eyes. Later, when dinner was finished and the game of monopoly concluded, Viktor brought out the Christmas presents.

“For Yuri.” Viktor handed him a rainbow wrapped box. “Those leopard print shoes you wanted.”

“OHHHHMMMYYYGOOOODDDYESSSS,” Yuri screamed as he tore the wrapping apart and threw the lid of the box off.

“For Otabek,” Viktor turned behind him and heaved up a cardboard box large enough that it couldn’t fit in his lap.

“For me?” Otabek asked, seeming surprised.

“Well, of course.” Viktor grinned and pushed the box with considerable difficulty. “You told me you hadn’t read Harry Potter yet.”

Otabek folded back the flaps of the box and looked in. “There are more than seven books in here.”

“Well, I figured, a set in Russian for your enjoyment, a set in English for practice and a set in French for good learning. Approach it however you like.”

Otabek was stunned into silence by the sheer extravagance of the gift as he reached into the box and pulled out the first book he could reach.

“Nerd,” Yuri jeered, elbowing his friend gently.

“Says the kid who has been getting A+ consistently in maths and 100% just a little less consistently,” Otabek snorted, giving him a gentle shove back.

“Whatever,” Yuri groused, crossing his arms.

“And for the Princess.” Viktor picked up a smaller package and handed it to the girl. “A set of Matryoshka dolls.”

Deana’s eyes sparkled as she separated each doll, revealing a new fascinating layer.

“I have a birthday present for you, Viktor, but it’s not here yet,” Yuri sighed and smiled apologetically.

“And what might that be?”

“The medal from my first official competition.” Yuri grinned.

Viktor chuckled and ruffled his brother’s hair. “I’ll be holding you to that, Yura.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next day, the Day After Christmas,

 

Lilia guided Georgi into a storage room at the end of a corridor.

“He’s waiting in there.”

Georgi nodded and thanked her before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” Otabek called.

Georgi stepper into the room and pulled his scarf off.

“Hello, Otabek.”

Georgi looked the boy over, he was still wearing his school uniform with a book balanced over his leg, but there was something uncharacteristically tense about him. Although Otabek’s face betrayed very little emotion, even the slightest change in his posture spoke volumes. 

He sat cross-legged on the chair with his hands braced against his knees, gripping imperceptibly harder than necessary. If there was someone who was good at reading the boy’s nuances it was Yura, but Georgi’s intermediate knowledge would have to do. The boy’s posture was closed off and defensive, he was uncomfortable, cautious and possibly apprehensive. 

It would be useless talking to him like this. It was probably because he was uncomfortable being alone here when in the past Viktor would also watch over them.

“Would you prefer I keep the door open?”

Otabek gritted his teeth for a moment. He was fighting the discomfort, good.

“No, it’s fine. Close the door.”

“So, how’s school?”

Otabek shrugged. “Okay.”

“Just okay?” He pulled his chair out and sat down.

“I’m a bit older than the other kids, but I’m catching up.”

“So everything is okay with teachers and friends?”

Georgi found out later that Viktor had gone to the school and personally requested that all of Otabek’s teachers be women. It was unusual for Viktor to be so invested, but Georgi quickly noticed something. Otabek trusted Viktor a lot from the very beginning for some odd reason. The very man who had held him at gunpoint and had been more than ready to execute him on the spot. 

There was a silent understanding between the two that Georgi had no involvement in, it took Otabek months to be comfortable with Georgi. They were still careful around him, Viktor particularly so, never leaving him alone with the other men or entering his personal space without asking. When the boy was first deposited into their care he flinched away from everyone but Yuri and the nights he did sleep were plagued with terror. He’d come a long way since then, perhaps Yuri made trusting Viktor easier?

“Friends?” Otabek hummed. “I guess.”

“Do you have friends other than Yuri?”

Otabek nodded.

“So, are you going to tell me why Viktor wants me to talk to you?”

Otabek let out a long sigh. “You’re not going to approve.”

“It doesn’t matter whether I approve or not.”

Otabek looked the older man dead in the eyes. “I’m working for Viktor.”

He’s fearless, absolutely and insanely fearless. “What?”

“I was at the arms deal yesterday.”

“Oh?”

“I was the sniper,” Otabek stated like it was the simplest thing in the world, like, ‘the sky is blue’.

If Georgi was drinking something right now he was pretty sure he would’ve done a spit take. 

“And Viktor let you!?”

“I insisted.”

“What on earth for?!”

“Money,” Otabek stated simply.

Georgi sucked in a deep calming breath. “There are better ways to earn a living. Finish school and get a job.”

“Mum needed more help to pay for Deana’s books. Plus, I’m not quitting school and Viktor doesn’t want me to either.”

Georgi observed the boy, noting the determined glint in his eye. He wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of helping his family. If Georgi’s memory was accurate, Viktor himself was very young when he had to start supporting his own family, perhaps that’s why he was so protective of Otabek. No one deserves to grow up ten years too early. It's a bloody miracle the boy could trust any man at all.

“And the nightmares?”

“It has been a while since the last one.”

“How did it feel picking up a gun again?”

Otabek glared at the ground as he chewed his bottom lip.

“I felt calm,” he bit out. “And it bothers me.”

Georgi pulled his notepad and a pen out of his bag, setting the two things on the desk.

“Do you want to talk more about that?”

 

* * *

 

 

 

St Petersburg, New Years Day 2018

 

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Yuri roared as he strode away from his coach, tugging his jacket on aggressively when it refused to slip onto his arms without resistance.

"Yuri!" Lilia called, following him into the corridors.

"I said leave me alone! I don't give a shit what anyone says, I'm going to the fucking Olympics!" Yuri turned a corner, conveniently finding the men's restroom.

He slipped inside and locked the door behind him, growling between his teeth when the door clicked but didn't budge as Lilia tried to open it.

"Yuri Plisetsky, open this door right now."

"Yeah, yeah call security," Yuri shot back, turning to walk over to the array of basins.

He braced his hands on either side of the sink and glared at his reflection. His jaws were clenched and the muscles pulled taut as he ground his teeth together. Fuck, he looked like shit, his hair was a mess and his legs felt like they were going to give out under him. Yuri whipped around and stalked to the nearest toilet stall, kicking the lid down and collapsing onto it, his head in his hands. He remained like this for a few seconds before pulling his phone out.

"Katsudon, katsudon, katsudon," he chanted as he scrolled down the list of contacts on his phone, finally finding the right one. 

"Fuck, please pick up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this is so late. Stuff just caught up to me and I’ve been in no condition to be writing so I hope you’ll forgive me.
> 
> Please note, this chapter marks the end of the 2011 Arc.
> 
> In terms of my publishing schedule, since school is starting and I’m in my final year, I will probably get a new chapter out every 2-3 weeks.
> 
> Thanks for reading, please leave some kudos or a comment and bookmark or subscribe for more!


	38. The Ghosts of Christmas Past and New Years Present (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's past catches up with him, and Viktor is there to hold him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's alive? YEAAH SURPRISE? I'm sorry, I have no excuses. I had a rough start to the year and I've been struggling along for the rest of the term, so I had to put this fic on the back burner. 
> 
> Fair warning: this is awkwardly timed because it was meant to be released before the Olympics even started! I'm kind of playing catch up now, I'll elaborate further in the endnotes.
> 
> I assure you, however, that this will be finished sooner or later. Believe! 
> 
> For now, enjoy. (Beware the editing is light on this chapter)

Halfway around the world: New Year's Eve, Detroit

 

 

Yuuri sighed as he pored over the paperwork piling up on the table top- where none of the actual table could be seen- between him and Minami.

 

"I can't believe Phichit actually managed to get leave for the entire holiday season, even if he deserves it,” Yuuri groaned.

Minami let his head drop onto the pile of paper beneath him. "I'm never going home at this rate," the younger man mumbled against the paper.

"You're not staying for the New Years Countdown?" 

"Nah, dinner with the parents."

"Well, that's okay. I'm sticking around, so I could always finish up."

"You are so hardworking," Minami raised his head and sniffled. "I want to become as great a detective as you some day."

Yuuri laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. Even after so long, he had no idea how to deal with this. At least Minami didn't think Yuuri was obsessive, but he definitely wasn't a great detective.

"T...thanks."

Before Minami could start rambling again, Yuuri's phone started ringing and vibrating against the table...somewhere under the mountain of paper. Yuuri swore loudly as he swiped through the papers, collapsing back down into his chair once he'd found his phone and accepted the call, putting it on speaker and tossing it back onto the table.

"Detective Katsuki speaking," Yuuri said automatically.

"Tell me, Katsudon, when the hell aren't you working? Or do you say that when you're at home too." Yuri Plisetsky's lightly accented voice jeered through the speaker.

"Oh, fuck," Yuuri gasped, swiping his phone off the table and taking his phone off speaker as quickly as he could.

Yuri Plisetsky was still supposed to be a secret between Phichit, Yuuri and the captain. Minami simply raised an eyebrow at his odd behaviour.

"Hey, what's up?" Yuuri tried as casually as he could.

He stumbled awkwardly out his chair and gestured for Minami to continue working. He excused himself with, "I'm just gonna take this call, I'll be back real quick Minami-kun," before slipping out of this room to find somewhere quiet.

"What was that?" Yurio asked.

"Nothing, just talking to another officer."

"So you are still at work. It's like past seven o'clock where you are."

"We don't usually go home till late anyway, plus, Phichit is upstate with his family so we're celebrating New Years at the precinct with everyone else."

"Huh, so...uh how's life?" The teen asked rather awkwardly as if skirting around something.

"Pretty hectic right now, sorry we didn't call you after the GPF, we weren't sure whether you'd be busy or not. Pozdravleniya (congratulations), Yurio."

"Whatever, it was silver," Yuri grunted, "nothing to be proud of."

"Yuri, you got silver and it was only your second GPF. It's amazing that you got onto the podium at all since you decided to skate with a minor injury, that was stupid by the way."

Yuri had called several times since leaving the States and had confessed his frustrations about whatever he couldn't quite get right at practice to the Japanese man so the pair had gotten kind of comfortable with each other.

"Well I wasn't going to bloody quit," Yuri mumbled under his breath before speaking up. "I can't believe I got one-upped by that loud Canadian bastard TJ."

"Yeah, there's always next time. Anyway, did you want to talk to Viktor?"

"N...no actually, not right now I..."

"Yuri? Is something the matter?"

"I'm sorry," Yuri huffed, "I don't think he would understand."

"What's wrong?"

"Have you heard about the Russian doping scandal?"

"Who hasn't?" Yuuri sighed.

"Obviously only idiots would join that program and I'm hella glad Lilia kept me out of that shit-"

"You don't have to convince me, Yuri, I know you aren't doping."

"Thanks," Yuri murmured. "Well, because of those idiots Russia is fucking banned from the Olympics this year."

"Yeah, but exceptions can participate, right?"

"Theoretically, but not if the committee decides to boycott the Olympics altogether."

"They won't stop you from going," Yuuri assured the younger man.

"You can't know that," Yuri hissed.

"Perhaps."

"And if they do disagree with me going, what do you suggest I do?"

"Listen to your federation."

"They're stupid," Yuri growled.

"They have a lot of pull when it comes to your career. Worse comes to worse, there's always the next Olympics."

"You're not stupid, Katsudon, I know that you know this. Realistically, I'm only going to have four chances for an Olympic medal in my career, that's if I'm lucky and I don't injure myself."

"Yurio-"

"If I don't go this year, that's three, maybe two chances left!"

"Well it's not like you're going to move to another country and represent them on such short notice," Yuuri sighed, fiddling with his sleeve.

When the teen on the other end of the line didn't rebuke him for such an insane idea, Yuuri was taken aback.

"Yurio...you're not actually considering that, are you?"

"You bet I am. I'm already a U.S. citizen by birth, It's just a matter of begging the USFSA and USOC to let me compete for them."

"Yuri, that is insane."

"Thanks, but not going would be equally insane."

"Yuri, just calm down for a second and wait till the officials give you a definitive answer."

Yuri sucked in a deep breath and held it in for a second and let it out. "I know you're right, but patience is not my forte. Sorry for yelling at you."

"It's okay." Yuuri was interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the door of the storage room he'd managed to hole himself up in.

"Yuuri~ Minami told me you were hiding in here. You've been gone for ages," Viktor called through the door.

Yuuri held his phone away from his mouth. "Viktor? Just a second!"

"Katsudon? Is Viktor there?"

"Yeah, do you want to talk to him now?"

"Sure."

Yuuri walked over and opened the door, yanking Viktor in and pressing the phone into his hand. "It's Yurio."

“That’s not my name!” Yuri hissed.

"YURIO!" Viktor squealed, immediately rolling into the usual how-are-yous and how's-Bekas and whatnot with a heart-shaped smile on his face.

Yuuri watched on fondly, picking a sturdy looking stack of boxes to sit on.

Later at the precinct,

Everyone was gathered loosely around the television screen in one corner. The crowd counted down cheerfully as the final seconds of the year elapsed. Yuuri and Viktor hung back towards the back of the room, otherwise fading into the wallpaper.

"10, 9, 8!"

Yuuri elbowed Viktor, prompting the older man to look down at him. 

"What?" Viktor laughed.

"7, 6, 5!"

"Nothing," Yuuri replied with a smirk.

"4, 3, 2!"

Before Viktor could turn back, Yuuri yanked him down by the collar, pulling him into a kiss.

Cheers of "HAPPY NEW YEAR!" erupted around them.

What felt like an eternity later, the pair parted, their foreheads resting together and their laboured breaths mingled. For a moment it seemed like they were in their own little bubble, cut off from the bustle and yelling around them.

"Happy New Year, Viktor," Yuuri murmured, a finger still curled in the older man's hair.

"H..happy New Year," Viktor replied breathlessly.

* * *

 

2 AM:

 

 

Viktor swatted at Yuuri who was lying face down on the floor.

"Yuuri, you should go to bed."

"Too tired 'nd too drunk," Yuuri mumbled back, instead rolling over onto his side to look at Viktor.

"Fine, but don't complain when your back feels screwed up in the morning."

Yuuri waved him off and made a sound that was reminiscent of a growl before flopping back onto his face.

"I'll get you a blanket and a pillow," Viktor sighed, going to retrieve the items.

He returned a few moments later, noting that Yuuri had at least bothered to take his jacket off and was in the middle of kicking his socks off.

"Right, here you go." Viktor tossed the blanket and pillow at Yuuri, laughing when the latter smacked him slap dab in the face.

Yuuri picked up and pillow and hugged it against his chest, his face pressed into a corner as he rolled himself into a bundle of a blanket.

"Goodnight," Viktor smiled fondly before turning the light off.

3 AM:

Viktor's eyes flew open to the sound of screaming. Yuuri. He threw the covers off and dashed to the living room as another blood-curdling scream rang out. 

"Yuuri!" Viktor stood in the doorway, overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness as he watched Yuuri twitch and thrash on the floor.

Viktor dropped to his knees and tried to shake Yuuri awake.

“Yuuri, wake up! It’s just a nightmare!” He begged.

A moment later, Yuuri’s eyes flew open and his fist connected with Viktor’s cheek. Viktor fell back and in that one second, Yuuri pounced upon him, pinning him to the ground with his fingers wrapped around Viktor’s neck.

“Y...Yuuri,” Viktor gargled as he scratched at Yuuri’s wrists.

The mist over Yuuri’s eyes faded and his grip weakened, eventually he removed his hands a drew them back towards him. Viktor sucked in a deep breath and touched the tender flesh on his throat.

“V...Viktor?”

“Yuuri? Are you with me?” Viktor coughed, his throat protesting against the words.

“What’s happening- why are we- where...” Yuuri’s breaths came out short and jagged.

“Hey, hey, stay with me. It’s okay, we’re at home in Detroit. It’s the safe house remember?”

Yuuri sat up and looked around as if the world was just coming into focus. Suddenly, he leapt to his feet and disappeared into the house, accompanied only by the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut. Viktor groaned and rolled over onto his knees a hand pressed against his throat.

"Yuuri?" Viktor croaked into the silence.

He stumbled to his feet and headed towards the bathroom. Outside he leaned against the door and rapped his knuckles against it gently.

"Yuuri?" He could hear the tap running inside. "I know you're in there."

When the other man didn't reply, Viktor sighed and returned to the living room, passing a mirror on the way. He looked in the mirror and reached up to touch his own face, which was starting to hella hurt. Nothing he hadn't experienced before. He shuffled back to the living room, not quite sure what to do with himself or what he did wrong, but he hoped Yuuri would come back out of the bathroom soon. Viktor settled on the couch, the adrenaline well and truly pushing away any hint of sleep left. The Russian shifted, noticing that he'd sat on something hard. He reached down and retrieved the object, holding it in the blue moonlight filtering through the window.

"Huh, Yuuri's phone?"

Viktor blinked. "Wait, I can call Phichit. He might be awake."

Rather predictably, Yuuri had Phichit as a favourite contact on his phone so he didn't even need to unlock it to call the Thai man. After a few rings, the call connected, but all Viktor could hear was the sound of yelling and music.

"H...hello?" Viktor answered awkwardly.

"Viktor!?" Phichit laughed. "Where's Yuuri?"

"About that...I was going to ask for your advice. Yuuri had a nightmare and I don't know what to do..."

"Shit, let me go somewhere quieter," Phichit replied, his voice suddenly serious.

Viktor waited a moment till Phichit came back.

"Okay, tell me what happened?"

"I woke up hearing him screaming- he was sleeping in the living room- so I tried to wake him up and he hit me and-"

"He hit you? Oh god, it's bad. Fuck, fuck."

"Phichit, what do I do?"

Phichit cursed under his breath for a few moments. "Where is he right now?"

"In the bathroom."

"The bathroom?!" Phichit roared.

"Y...yeah?"

"Viktor, he can't be left alone in the fucking bathroom!" Phichit screamed.

A moment later the sound of shattering glass echoed down the corridor, Viktor nearly dropping Yuuri's phone as he dashed towards the sound.

"Do I call the others?" Viktor hissed as he tried the doorknob.

“No, no you can't he'll absolutely freak. Just whatever you do, get him out of there. I'm coming, Viktor."

"Phichit, it's 3 AM and you're more than three hours away-"

"I don't care. He's my best friend, I'm coming home! Get him out of the bathroom, I don't care if you have to break down the fucking door!" 

Viktor flinched when he heard the shower screech to life. He terminated the call and slipped the phone into his pocket.

"Yuuri? Yuuri I know you're in there. Open the door, Yuuri!"

Silence.

Viktor tried the doorknob anyway, but it was still locked. 

"Shit, shit, shit." Viktor took a step back, break the door it was.

He raised his legs and slammed his heel against the door, just beneath the doorknob, grimacing as just a few splinters started forming. He kicked again with a grunt of effort.

"Just one more," he whispered to himself. "I'm coming, Yuuri."

The last time the door splintered inwards, sending Viktor stumbling into the bathroom.

"Yuuri?!" Viktor nearly stumbled forwards, not before noticing the glass that littered the ground. 

The second thing Viktor noticed was Yuuri curled up in the bathtub, the shower running over his head. It looked like Yuuri had punched the mirror in, from the blood dripping off his hands. Viktor grabbed a towel and folded it, tossing it over the glass. He couldn’t look after Yuuri if he was hurt. He stepped across the towel gingerly until he was standing beside the bathtub.

“Yuuri?” He whispered as he leaned over to stick a hand in the water.

He flinched away, it was freezing cold water.

“Imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry,” Yuuri muttered, his whole body quivering.

“Yuuri, can you hear me? You’re gonna freeze to death, I’m going to carry you out of the tub.” Viktor placed a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, frowning when he flinched away from it.

He needed to get Yuuri dry before he got hypothermia and clean and bandage his hands. Viktor stumbled into the bath ignoring the way the cold water went straight through his clothes to the centre of his bones. By the time Viktor leaned over and shut the water off he was well and truly soaked. 

"Yuuri, I'm gonna pick you up."

Too weak to flinch away this time, Yuuri curled into Viktor’s shoulder as the other man scooped him up.

“I’ve got you,” Viktor mumbled as he stumbled out of the bathroom and down the hallway.

As gently as he could, Viktor lowered Yuuri into Viktor's bed.

“I have to get the first aid kit and a towel. Just hang in there.”

Viktor dashed back to the bathroom and plucked some dry towels off the rack before jogging back to his room. Ever so gently, he wrapped Yuuri in the towels and made sure his hands were outside. He tried to ignore the way the blood died his sheets red and the water helped it spread, as though Yuuri were bleeding out.

“Better?” He asked, not really expecting a reply.

“V...Viktor...” Yuuri whimpered between chattering teeth.

“Hi, lift your head.” Viktor gently lifted Yuuri’s head and wrapped the second towel around his head.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri whispered, tears running out of eyes that were squeezed shut.

“Shh, it’s okay. I have to get the first aid kit, I’ll be back.”

He turned the cabinets inside out looking for the kit. Clearly, someone had moved it since the last time he’d needed it to patch Yuuri’s hands up. That or he’d misplaced it and was now regretting it very much. When he finally got his hands on the kit he rushed back to his bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed and pressed a gentle hand against Yuuri’s wrists.

“I need to see your hands.”

Yuuri relented and let Viktor pulls his hands away from his body. He cracked his eyes open and watch quietly.

“It’s gonna hurt a little,” Viktor murmured as he started his work.

Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw.

“Phichit is going to be mad...again,” he ground out between his teeth.

Viktor paused. “He won’t. If anything he’ll be mad he wasn’t here to look out for you.”

“I’m always hurting the people I care about. Always, always...” a tear slipped from Yuuri’s eyes.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it,” Viktor whispered, rubbing a reassuring hand up and down his arm.

“My teammates,” he hiccuped. “I killed them.”

The dream always started the same way. Yuuri blinked and he was back in the humid forest, sweat rolling down the side of his head as they trampled through the forest. Greg was beside him, Kayden and Thalia in front of him and Tessa even further in front. Further up, ahead of the group, Radley was waving a metal apparatus over the ground, searching for mines.

“I can’t wait to go home,” Tessa groaned, rubbing her forehead.

“I second that,” Greg sighed, slinging an arm over Yuuri’s shoulders.

“The humidity is screwing with my hair and I haven’t had a decent shower in like... ten years.” Kayden sighed wistfully and twisted a lock of hair around his finger.

Yuuri looked over his shoulder, an amused smirk on his face.

“Concentrate,” his voice came out of his own mouth.

He looked forward, staring at Radley’s back. It was always the same, his lungs ached from the need to scream, but no words would come out. They were all so happy, all smiles, and seconds from disaster. Radley looked over his shoulder, and that was it, the devastatingly besotted smile he shot Tessa. It twisted the knife buried in Yuuri’s heart. Moments later, an explosion sent Yuuri crashing to the ground, Greg wrapping an arm around him.

With men from the base they'd been trying to infiltrate hot on their heels, they found shelter as quickly as they could in an old abandoned building in the middle of the forest. Radley, bleeding profusely, screams in pain as they lower him onto the ground. Yuuri does his best to hold the wound closed, but it's doing nothing. He can feel the blood pumping and spurting across his hands with Radley's every faltering heartbeat.

"Rad! Stay with me, buddy!" Yuuri hears himself scream hoarsely as he watches the man's eyes flutter closed.

Radley cracks his eyes open one last time, tears pooling against his hazel eyes. He glances at Tessa, who squeezes his hand and smiles tearfully, then turns to Yuuri.

"Look after Tessa for me, yeah?" He whispers weakly, a small smile on his lips.

"H..hey don't say that.." Yuuri choked out.

He never opened his eyes again.

"Yuuri," Greg rests a hand on Yuuri's shoulder. "We need to go, they're getting closer and we won't stand a chance in our condition. We need to burn the body, we won't make it out otherwise and you know what they'll do with it if they find it."

Yuuri steps back and turns away, he can't stand to look. He can hear Tessa's muffled sobs and the scratch of a match being lit. Yuuri knew he should be used to it by now, that it shouldn't surprise him by any means. But he knew it would, it always will. It hits him like a wall, the all too familiar smell of burning flesh, like a physical force sending him stumbling backwards. His hand flew up to his mouth as a wave of nausea sent him stumbling to the corner of the room. He clutched the fabric of his pants weakly as he was greeted with the familiar sight of his breakfast.

Eggs. It's always eggs and bread. It never changes, because Yuuri has lived this before. There's no need for deja vu, Yuuri knows. He has lived this nightmare a thousand times and it will never be anything but bread and eggs at the bottom of that rusting wastebasket. His nightmare was like a festering wound in his heart or his brain- he's not quite sure anymore. 

The nightmare ends there, though Yuuri knows exactly what happened afterwards.

A few days later,

Yuuri awoke to Greg shaking his shoulder.

"Yuuri."

"Mm, what?" Yuuri mumbled, tugging the other man into his bed.

Greg sighed and fell into his open arms without resistance. 

"You have the spare key to Tessa's room, right?"

"Yeah, why?" 

"She hasn't responded to me knocking on her door."

Yuuri froze.

"Really?"

Greg nodded, pulling back. "I'm worried."

Yuuri scrambled out of bed, yanking on a jacket and grabbing the keys as he dashed out of his room.

"Y...Yuuri, wait up!"

Yuuri banged on Tessa's door insistently.

"Tess, I'm opening this door!" He called through it.

When he received no response he rifled through his keychain till he got to the right key, stabbing the key into the lock and nearly kicking the door open.

"Wilkinson?" He called into the quiet dark room.

"Is that Radley's stuff?" Greg asked as he brushed past Yuuri, opening what looked like mostly packed luggage on the bed.

"Probably." Yuuri continued on into the suite, his heart nearly hammering out of his chest as he headed to the bathroom.

The door was slightly ajar, a slither of dim yellow light peeking out into the corridor. Yuuri pushed the door open slowly.

"Tessa," he whispered, his voice cracking as he turned to the shower.

He drew back the curtain with shaking hands, a hand flying up to his mouth. She lay crumpled on the ground, her gun clutched limply in one hand and the other held protectively over her stomach. Yuuri ignored the splattered blood on the wall as he gently bundled her body into a bathrobe, placing an extra towel over her face. He picked her up carefully and walked calmly out of the bathroom, her cold body cradled against his as softly as he would a child.

"Y...Yuuri, is t...that?" Greg whispered.

With his face trained into one of quiet composure, Yuuri laid her down on the bed gently, ignoring the blood dripping down onto the mouldy carpet.

"Get the others together and meet me in my office in 10."

“Tessa Wilkinson died in the line of duty from sustained bullet wounds...” Greg read out. 

“What?!” Thalia hissed, yanking the paper out of his hand to read it. “This is bullshit!”

“G...guys,” Kayden murmured as Thalia shoved past him.

“Yuuri! What is this bullshit?” She hissed as she strode into the room, slapping the papers down on the tiny desk in front of Yuuri.

“The official report.”

“Why does it say that they both died in the field?”

“That is the official report,” Yuuri replied coolly, lifting a chilled glass of alcohol to his lips.

“Don’t fuck with me!” She hissed, yanking Yuuri up by his collar. “That’s not the truth!”

“Stop it, Desmond!” Greg hissed, tugging her off Yuuri.

“When has the truth ever made anyone feel any better?” Yuuri huffed as he stumbled backwards till he could reach the bottle of whiskey on his desk.

“H...her parents deserve to know the truth!”

“What truth?!” Yuuri cried. “That Tessa used her own gun to put a bullet in her brain in a shoddy shower cubicle in the middle of fucking nowhere? That she was pregnant with Radley’s child and that they were both going to go home and retire and get married and live happily ever after?”

Thalia stood back, shocked into an absolute silence as tears stung at her eyes.

“The truth will set no one free. Do you want to know the truth? It’s that I was the one who put them out there in the first place when none of us have had more than five hours sleep in weeks. Do you want the truth or do you want someone to blame, because it’s my fault, okay!” Yuuri was breathing hard as the last words left his mouth, a distinct tightness in his chest as he pressed a hand to his aching throat.

“Y...Yuuri...” Greg reached out slowly.

“Don’t touch me!” Yuuri hissed, slapping his hand away even as he rubbed aggressively at his own eyes. “The circumstances of Wilkinson’s death, her pregnancy and her relationship with Thomas, will remain between the four of us. Understood?”

The three adults remained frozen in the aftermath of his harsh words.

“That’s an order!” Yuuri barked, slamming the whiskey down on the desk.

The three flinched and whispered a quick. “Yessir.”

Yuuri turned on his heel and strode out of the room, his arm pressed against his face in a desperate attempt to stem his tears. He shoved the door open and stumbled into the middle of the yard, his hands pressed against his eyes.

“...fuck,” Yuuri whispered. “Fuck. FUCKING FUCK!”

The door creaked open behind him.

“Yuuri?”

“What the fuck do you want, Greg? Can’t you just leave me the fuck alone!?” Yuuri whipped around, his lips twisted into a snarl.

“Yuuri,” Greg murmured softly as he pulled Yuuri into a hug.

Yuuri thrashed weakly against his chest. “Let me go.”

“Yuuri. Yuuri, I’ve got you,” he whispered, holding him tight until he stopped struggling.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri sobbed, pressing his tear stained cheek into Greg’s chest.

“No, no, it’s okay, I’ve got you.”

“It won’t be in vain,” Yuuri hissed, taking a step back. “I’m going to finish this.”

“No you’re not,” Greg replied quietly.

Yuuri froze. “What do you mean?”

“We’re going home.”

“No, we’re not...what did you do? We have to finish this!” Yuuri roared.

“We are going home. I pulled the plug.”

“No, no, no you can’t do that! I...we...you. Don’t you...” Yuuri’s breath came out in uneven huffs, his hands pressed firmly over his ears.

“I’m sorry,” Greg whispered, his lips moving though Yuuri couldn’t hear him.

Yuuri cursed out loud. Even if he couldn’t hear, he could read the words right off Greg’s lips.

“I’m so sorry, Yuuri. I already made the call home. This is the right thing to do, as your partner I should’ve known what this would do to you. I’m so sorry.”

* * *

 

Present time.

Yuuri clutched weakly at Viktor’s hands.

“It wasn’t your fault,” the Russian responded quietly.

“Do you blame yourself for Georgi’s death?”

Viktor froze at this, grimaced then hung his head.

“Touché.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Yuuri whispered back.

Viktor looked up with a pained smile. He knows he’s fucked up when the person he’s meant to be looking after is trying to reassure him.

“You should rest, Yuuri.”

Viktor made to stand, but Yuuri held fast to his hand.

“Don’t go.”

“Huh?”

“Stay,” Yuuri murmured, squeezing Viktor’s hand. “Please?”

Viktor shrugged, not like he was going to say no. He clambered onto the bed beside Yuuri, his knees just brushed up against the blankets Yuuri was bundled into. Yuuri’s breaths evened out within minutes, his eyes fluttering underneath their lids. 

Viktor leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, a crease in the Japanese man’s forehead evening out. Viktor bunched a handful of the bedsheets against his hammering heart, doing his best to try and calm himself down. He was aware that a line was crossed, though it felt like that line was crossed a very long time ago. 

The first time he kissed Yuuri in Detroit? No, that very first night at the safe house when they laughed themselves to death on the floor and their eyes met and a spark flickered between them. No, the very first time Viktor met Yuuri in Detroit. He crossed a line that day, playing with fire. But then it was just a smouldering ember of a fire and now it's a raging wildfire that surrounds him and compels him to throw himself into the flames and let himself be consumed. Yuuri Katsuki is a fire that burns brighter than life itself and Viktor is covered in burns he cannot stand to hide.

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathed out. “I love you.”

The words roll against his mouth, heavy and unfamiliar, leaving his tongue in a bare whisper heard only by the walls. Viktor freezes momentarily, his heart in his throat when Yuuri shifted in his sleep, only relaxing when he continued snoring away. 

They say what kills you makes you feel alive, and here Viktor is, no doubt he sees his own stupidity. He has fallen for the enemy, someone who once plotted to destroy him, nay, someone who some would call his arch nemesis. After an eternity without feeling, Viktor felt like he was drowning now that the floodgates were open. Like a parched man now drowning. This must be what living feels like, life and love.

He couldn’t leave if he tried and no, he wasn’t thinking about the tracker on his ankle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had more stuff planned for the Olympics and Valentines day, all of which has passed by in real time, funnily enough. That's okay, I'll catch up!
> 
> You're probably wondering whether I'm going to take another impromptu hiatus. At this point, I'm not sure, but I'm about to go into a two-week break from school so I might have some more time to write and catch up on work I hadn't been able to do. I should be able to update about once a month hopefully.
> 
> Goodbye until next time!


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